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memoirs/ 



OF 



THE LIFE 

OF 

MARTHA LAURENS RAMSAY, 

WHO DIED IN CHARLESTON, S.C. 

ON THE 10th OF JUNE, 1811, IN THE 52d YEAR OF HER AGE. 

WITH AN APPENDIX. 

CONTAINING EXTRACTS FKOM HER DIARY, LETTERS^, 
AND OTHER PRIVATE PAPERS. 

AND ALSO 

FROM LETTERS WRITTEN TO HER, BY HER FATHER, 
HENRY LAURENS, 1771-1776. 

BY DAVID RAMSAY, M.D, 

The experimental part of religion has generallj' a gi-eater influence than its 
theory. Mrs. Rowe's Posthumous Letter to Dr, Wattt. 

SECOND EDITION. 



charlestown; 
PfllNTED AND SOLD BY SAMUEL ETHERIQGE. Jv»'r; 



^^♦, 



%^ 



DISTRICT OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 10 VVIT.-^ 

BE it remeuAei-ed tliat on Uie fifteenth day of July, Aaiiio Domini oiif- 
thousancl, eight hundred and eleveii, and in the thiity sixth year of the 
mdependence of t}.e United States of America, El. anor Henr\ Laurens 
Ramsay, Maiaha Henry Laurw.s Riiinsay, Catharine Henn" Laurens 
Ramsay, and Sabma Elhott Ramsay, of t!-.e said district, have deposited in 
this office the title of a book, the riglu whereof they chiim as j-roprietoK;, 
m the words following, to wit : j i ' " ^ 

Memoirs of the Life of Martha Lam-ens Ramsay, who died in Cliarlic. 
ton S.C. on the 10th of June, 1811, in the fifty second year of her aee- 
with an Appendix, containing E>j:ti-acts from !ier Diuvv, Letti -s and otli- 
er private papers, and also fioui I,etters w ritten to her by iier fathe--- 
Henry Laurens, 1771-1776. By David Rtimsay. M.D. 

The experimental part of rehgiou has K'tnerallv a greater influence tliau 
Its theory. Mrs. Kmuc's Postlmmoui Utter to Dr. Ifafts. 

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States en- 
(L.S.) *'*'^' . A" :^f, 'wi' ''!f encouragement of leurning, by securing 
the copies of Maps, Charts* and Books to the authors a.nd Dro- 
prietors of sucli copies during the times therein mentioned," an.J 
also to an Act entitled - An Act suppleinentaiy to an Act fbr the eJicc^r^ 
^ETlf l'-''*"""Sl>y sauring the copies of Maps,. Charts, and Books to 
the authors and H-opnet..rs of such copies during the tiraeJ tlu^-ein men- 
tioned and e>. tending the beiKfiis thereof to the arts of designing, engrav- 
sJBg, and etching historical and other prints." " "' ^ 

JAMES JERVEY, 
Fcch-ul Clerk, S. Carolina District. 



f^ 



PREFACE. 



Tnii manuscripts which gave rise to this 
pnblieation wptc tound anio^Ji,* the private pa- 
pers of their author, Martha Laurens Ram- 
say, after her death, and were unseen by ev- 
ery human eye but her own, previous to that 
event. The first mention she ever made of 
them was in the full view of death, and only 
three days before its fatal stroke. She then 
announced the drawer in which they were de- 
posited, and at the same time requested, that 
after they were read they might be kept as 
a common book of the family, or divided 
among its members. They appeared, on pe- 
rusal, to be well calculated to excite serious 
impressions favourable to the interests of re- 
ligion ; for they were a practical, experimen- 
tal comment on its nature and salutary effects 
even in this I'^fe. Its fendency to promote 
human hapjiiness, and its sovereign eflficacy 
to tranquillize the mind and administer con^ 
solution under aHiictions, disappointments, 
and ti'ials. 'IMicy exhibited an example which 
teaches more compendiously and forcibly than 



^■^ ^REPACK. 

precept, the value of piety, and the comfort 
of subniission to the ^^ill of God. With this 
view of the subject it became an interesting 
inquiry, hoM far it wouhl be proper to with- 
hold them from that more enlarged sphere of 
usefulness, which would result from their 
publication ? In determining this question, 
recourse was had to the opinions of the Rev. 
Drs. Hollinshead and Keith, under whose 
ministry the Avriter of the private papers, 
now published, had sat upward of twenty 
years, and to whom she was intimately known. 
They strongly recommended the publication 
as well calculated to do good. Their opin- 
ions and the reasons of them were given in 
the subjoined letters.* In publishing to the 

* A letter from the Rev. Dr. Hollinshead to Dr. David 
Ramsay. 

Charleston, S. C. July 1, 1811, 
DEAR SIR, 

The perusal of our much esteemed Mrs. Ramsay's papers 
has awakened in me many pleasing, though painful reflec- 
tions. The loss of such a friend and such a memherof our 
church is unspeakable. Her example, while she abode 
vith us, was a living lecture on the importance of tl'e hu- 
man character in every part it has to act upon the stage of 
life, and eminently recommended the maxims and habits of 
our holy religion, as worthy of all acceptation. The devout 
reflections of her retired hours exhibit a mind im])resscd 
with the great realities of its eternal mterests, truly solicit- 
ous to improve in godliness and virtue, and highly favoured 
at the same time with an intimate intercourse with heaven. 
Permit me to say, that I think the piiblicatioii of these de- 
vout exercises of her heart, with a sketch of her life, might 
contribute much to the establishment and cftmfort of many 
pious exercised christians, who walk in fear and darkness. 



PREFACE. V 

world <]ie private religious exercises of an in- 
dividual, it seemed a thing of course that some 

for want of knowing- how others have heen affected in scenes 
of trial hke tlu-ir own. It would be read with interest and 
improvement by chiistians in every situation whether of 
prosperity or attiiclion. It would be peculiarly gratifying 
to a numerous circle to whom every memorial of their be- 
loved departed friend will be precious. In presenting it to 
the commimilv, which 1 thmk no person can so well do as 
yourself, you will perform an interesting and acceptable duty 
lo society, and embalm, at the same time, the virtues and 
the memory of h most amiable christian. Your undertaking 
this will gratify many oiheis as well as. 

Dear Sir, your truly sympathizing, and 
affectionate friend, 

W. HOLLINSHEAD. 



A letter from the Rev. Dr. Keith, to Dr. David Ramsay. 

Cluirleston, S. C. June 28, 1811. 
DEAH SIR, 

The manuscripts whicli you wei'e so good as to leave with 
me, I now return with niy trordial thanks for the favour of 
having them svibraitted to my perusal. 

1 have read them with that close attention, with that live- 
ly interest, witli that melancholy pleasure, which have been 
naturally excited by the circumstance of their relating to a 
person, who stood high in my esteem and regards as a 
christian and a tVitnd while living, and whose precious 
memory my heart is disposed ever to cherish with the 
tenderest mingled emotions of affection and regret. 

From the earliest period of my acquaintance with Mrs. 
Rum.sa}', 1 have considered her as a lady of a very superior 
mind, of dispositions eminently benevolent, friendly and 
generous ; and of those various and valuable accomplish- 
ments which could be derived only from the best educa- 
tion, from an aseiduous attention to the most proper and 
effectual meafis of improvement, and from a long and in- 
timate intercourse with many of the first characters in her 
native country and in Europe. She was, however, still 



tl TREFACE. 

account of that in(iividual should be given at 
the same time; for without some such kuowl- 

much more honourably and happily distinguished by the 
grace of God, by which, in her early years, her heart was 
renewed and sanctified, and under the influence of which, 
through the succeeding course of her life, she exhibiied in 
the view of all attentive and judicious observers, a bright 
and attractivi^ exampl of the temper and conduct of a real 
christian. But it required that delineation of the senti- 
ments, feelings, and exercises of her heart, which her own 
pen has drawn, for her own use in her raost secret transac- 
tions with her Saviour and her God, to enable even her 
most intimate friends to see her character disi)layed in its 
brightest and most amiable beauties, in her deep and Uhaf- 
fected humility, in her uiidisstmbled and uncommon sense 
of sinfulness and unworthiness. in her remarkable self <le- 
nial, in respect to wftrldly interests and enjoyments, in her 
strong nd steadfast faith, trust and hope, and qu»et, sweet 
resignation, under the most painful ilisappointments, afllic- 
tions, and trials, in the fervour of her devotions, in the closet 
as well as in the family, and the sanctuary, and at the table 
of the Lord, in the overflowings of her benevolence, and 
charity toward all around her, according to tlieir respective 
circumstances, and in the ardour of her affections especially 
to her own family and peculiar friends, expressed in her 
many prayers for them, avid her often renewed solemn res- 
olutions to do every thing within her ])Ower, by a conscien- 
tious, faithful, cheerful performance of ever}' personal, rel- 
ative, and religious duty for promoting their temporal, spir- 
itual, and eternal interests and happiness 

Truly " her walk was close witli God," and '* her liglit 
shone brightly before men." 

The impressions made on my own mind by the perusal of 
these Memoirs of .Mrs. Ramsay, and extracts from hei- Di- 
ary, Sec have irresistibly led me to wish and earnestly to 
desire that they may be permitted to appear in print. To 
withhold such papers from the public, would be to deprive 
many, very many, into whose hands they might come, of a 
most pleasing entertainment, and a rich benefit To her 
family and friends, in whose hearts she still lives, the vol- 
ume would be a most welcome and precious memorial gf 



PREFACE. Viji 

edg^e, many of (lie rcileclions of i\\e writer 
would be oomparatively uninteresting, if not 
unintelligible. It was therefore resolved to 
prefix to the manuscripts, some general ac- 
count of the author, as far as was necessary, 
to throw light on their contents. The publi- 
cation of these private papers was the oi'iginal 
design, the publication of (lie life of their au- 
thor only secondary and incidental, as an in- 

v'1i!it she was in her-elf, and of uliat she was to them. 
AVhile 10 Jill extensive circle of readers, fund of books of 
this description, it v/ouUt afford the desirable means of be- 
cornine; nctiiiainted with the excellent and amiable charac- 
ter, with the eiiiinent christian virlnes and attainments, of 
one who adorned every i-elatiun which she sustained, and 
fdled with dignity and usefidness, every sphere of life in 
which she rao\etl. 

Thus, *' she being dead, would continue to speak" forci- 
bly and persuasively it is hoped, to the children of the world, 
in favour of the divine and blessed Saviour, to whom she liv- 
eil and died ; and more especially to the disciples and friends 
of this Saviour, ^lie would speak with the best effect in the 
wav of instruction, encouragement, and consolation, rela- 
tive to the various scenes of duty and trial, in which they 
may l>e called to be followers of her, and of all like her, 
** who, througli faith and patience, inherit the promises." 

Under the influence of these, and similar reasons, vou 
will, I trust, yield to the call of duty, and consider vourself 
as rendtii'ing an important service to the public, and a due 
tribute of ])raise to the tiod of all grace, by consenting tf» 
publish these valuable papers as socm as may be practicaltle. 

In all christian regards, includiiig a tender svmjtathv to- 
waj-d yourself and \our dear childien, under every trial, 
and especially under this peculiarly heavy affliction, Mrs. 
K. cordially joins with. 

Dear Sir, 

Your sincere, and affectionate frien4, 

Isaac S. Keith. 



Vlll PREFACE. 

Iroduclion to the effusions of her heart, whieh 
Jiad heen put on paper solely for her own pri- 
vate use. God grant that their publication 
may be the means of exciting in others, and 
especially the connexions and friends of their 
author, the same lively sentiments of fervent 
rational piety with whieh she was animated. 

David Eamsay. 

Ckarleston, S. C. July 15, 18U. 



PREFACE. 

SECOND EDITION. 

Tke Etlif or of the present Edition of Oiese 
Menmirs, had the honour and happiness of a 
lonj- acquaintance with the snhject of them, 
and cheerfully Slives his testimony, with that 
of others, to the eminent worth of her char- 
acter, and to the faithfulness of her biogra- 
plier. The religion of Mrs. Ramsay was the 
Avarm. vital, active, unaffected religion of the 
Bible. Happy would be the effect, if at this 
period of lani^uor, when the standard of re- 
lii^ious exercises and experience is so low if 
these Memoirs, should contribute, by the 
blessing of God, in any measure to raise it. 

The Editor subjoins the testimony of Rev, 
Btinjamin Palmer, of Beaufort, S. C. con- 
tain, d in a letter to the Rev. Dr. Keith, as 
follows. 

" Mrs. P. and myself have been readmg 
the verv valuable little volume. Memoirs of 
Mrs. Ranisav. which you sent me by Mr. 
Ilulburt. Mv opinion of that excellent la- 
dv's piety and learnin?^, had been gi-ejit, ever 
since I was capable of forming an opinion, 



-^ PREFACE. 



and had an opportunitj to do it. But f can 
triilv saj, (hat these Memoirs have klisclos- 
ed such a rare assembhigeol' menial and mor- 
al excellencies, that until I read tiiem. (he 
half was not ivnown to me. What a wonder- 
ful faculty she must have possessed, of keep- 
ing concealed her superior qualities under 
the veil of so much apparently entire uncon- 
sciousness of her own uncommon superiority. 
Surely, if in any instance, the left hand has 
not been allowed to know what the right hand 
doth, it is in this. I know not how to express 
the exalted opinion I now entertain of her un- 
usual merit. I do not know when I have 
i^ad any thing with more interest and de- 
light. This may, in part, be owing to my 
having had the honour and pleasure of a per- 
sonal acquaintance with her; but I am sure 
that independent of that circumstance, the 
effect would have been nearly the same. 
What a model of female excellence, in every 
point of view, do her biography and letters 
exhibit. I hope with you, and cannot hut 
believe, that these Memoirs will prove a 
blessing to many readers." 

Charlestown, Mass. May 1, 1812. 



MEMOIRS, he. 



Martha Laurens IIa:visay was born hi 
Charleston, S. C on tlie Sd. of November, 
1759. She >vas tlie daugbler of Henrv Lau- 
rens and of Eleanor Ball, and lorn in the 
ninth year after their marriage. By the fa- 
therms side she was of Frenel> extraction. Her 
great gi-and parents were born in Ilo.helie. 
and suffered in the famous siege of that place. 
They were Ilugonots or Protestants. Being, 
by the revocation of the edict Nantz, comj)eri- 
ed to leave their native corntry, tlieveame to 
America in the latter end of t '«e 171 h. century. 
Her maternal ancestors migrated from Dev- 
onshire in England, and settled in South Car- 
olina about the same time. 

In the first year of her life she had the 
small pox so severely that she was supposed 
to be dead, and as such was actually laid out 
preparatory to her funeral. This was done 
under an open window, instead of the close 
room in which she had been kept, according 
to the absurd mode of treating the small pox 
la 1760. Dr. Moultrie; coming in at this 



^ 2 MEMOIRS OF 

crisis, pronounced lior to be still alive, prob- 
ably recalled to life by tbe fresli air of I be 
' open window. Under otber circumstances 
sbe would sbortly bave been buried, as was 
tlien commonly done, witb persons wbo died 
of tbe small pox in tbat year of extensive 
mortality. A valuable life was tbus provi- 
dentially saved for future usefulness. 

Marlba Laurens early discovered a great 
capacity and eagerness for learning. In tbe 
course of ber tbird year sbe could readily 
read any book, and, wbat is extraordinary, in 
an inverted position, witbout any difficulty. 
In youtb ber vivacity and spirits were exube- 
rant. Feats of activity, tbougb attended 
witb personal danger, were to ber familiar ; 
great exertions of bodily labour; romantic 
projects; excesses of tbe wildest play were 
preferred to stagnant life ; but from all tbese 
sbe could be turned off in a moment to seri- 
ous business. As sbe grew up, tbe same ac- 
tivity was exerted in acquii'ing tbe useful and 
ornamental parts of female education. Sbe 
very soon acquired a grammatical knowledge 
of tbe Frencb language ; a considerable em- 
inence in reading, writing, aritbmetic, Eng- 
lisb grammar, geography, tbe use of tbe 
globes. Sbe even acquired a considerable 
acquaintance witb geometry* and math- 

* Among her private papers has been found, accirately 
drawn by her hand, the first plan, of the present circular 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



.ematical science. At ihe saoie time slic was 
iiKlefatigable in cuhivaiing lui acquaintance 
^vith books; and, by means of abrid.^ing, 
transcribing* and conmsitting to mensory, 
vas very successful in retaining much of 
-what sbe read. In accompHsbments and 
the ornamental parts of education, sbe excell- 
ed, and in the exercise of them took great 
delight, . 

In the 11th. year of her age sbe sustained 
an immense loss by the death of her excellent 
mother ; but tbisV»as in some measure made 
up by the maternal care of her good aunt, 
Mary Laurens, tiie >vife of James Laurens, 
whose sound judgment, refused manners, and 
eminent piety wiU fitted her for training up 
lier orphan niece for both worlds. To her 
care, and to that ol* iiis brotlier, Henry Lau- 
rens committed tiie cliariic of his two daugh- 
ters, while he went to superintend the educa- 
tion of his sons in Europe. There he con- 
tinned till the end of tlk- yvnv i 77 i, w hen love 
for his country brought him back to its de- 
fence against the aggressions of Britain. 
Thus, while Providence deprived Miss Lau- 
rens of the instructions and example of her 

church, but without the western projection afterward add- 
ed bv others This preceded ihe ele-nnt phm r>l ihe in- 
..enioas architect, Mr. Mills, and w:.s introductory to the 
Tnoiion whicli ultimutelv terminated in Uie adoption ot the 
eircrdar form. 

n 



u 



MEMOIRS OF 



imtii5*iil nioOier, it raised up another friend, 
wlio peribrined tlie maternal duties with 
equal capacity, fidelity, and affection. 
Thougli she was deprived of tiie company of 
her wise and virtuous father, for almost the 
whole of that interesting period, which ex- 
tended from the 11th. to the 22d.year of her 
age, she continued to receive letters from 
him. From 1771 till 1775 his paternal in- 
structions, communicated by letter, were cal- 
culated to forward the virtuous education of 
a belovefl dau!:;']ster, g;rowing uj) with fair 
prospects of an ample fortune ; but in and af- 
ter 1775 he warned her of the probability that 
his estate uo!iId be forfeited, and that her 
ftither arnj brother in arms would lose their 
lives, and jhat she must prepare to maintain 
herseir by her own exertions.* These antici- 
pations were not fully realized; but the ex- 
pectation of them had a direct tendency to 
assist in formiiij^' tlje solid education of the 
pv^rson to whom they were addressed. 

Miss I.aurens. in her 12th. year, began to 
be tiie subject of serious religious impres- 
sions. She was well instructed in the 
,^reat gospel mystery of salvation by the aton- 
ing sacrifice of Jesus Clirist for the sins of 
the worhl. And there is good reason to be- 
lieve, that at a very early period she was 

* See Appendix No. I. for extracts fror:: 'hcsv? letters. 



MKS. RAMSAY. 



i.5 



bpought by the i^race of Gnd cordialiy to ac- 
cept of salvation freely olfcrcd, ihough dear- 
ly purchased. 

In the 15th. year of her age, in confornn- 
ty to the advice of Dr. Doddridge, and in a 
form of words recommended by him, she pre- 
pared, and solemnly executed an instrument 
of writing, called by her with great proprie- 
ty, ** A self dedication and solemn covenant 
vitli God." In this, after a suitable intro- 
duction *< she presents before her Maker the 
whole frame of her nature, all the faculties of 
her mind, and all the members of her body, as a 
living sacrifice holy and acceptable unto God.'' 
And** not only consecrates all that she was, and 
all that she had to his service, but humbly re- 
signs to his heavenly will all that she called 
liers. to be disposed of as he pleased."^ In 
the Old Testament we several times read 
of the rulers, priests, and people among the 
Jews solemnly covenanting before God, to re- 
nounce their transgressions and to adhere to 
his service. In the 9th. and 10th. chapters 
of Nehemiah there is a particular account of 
a covenant to this effect, drawn up in writing, 
and ratified by the nanjes and seals of the 
persons who consented to it. AVhether in 

* See Appendix, No. II. for an ev.nct copy of this solemn 
act. The original will be .«hown to f^uch iriends as may 
desire to see it. 



16 



MEMOIRS OF 



addition to tliese exiuiiples from holy writ, 
iiikI the recoinniendiition of Dv. Doddridge, 
there were any parlicuiar circumstances, 
Avhich, at that time, iadiieed Missliaurens to 
enter ihlo this written eni4'ii,::^ement to be the 
Lord's, is unknown. It is believed that she 
kept the transaction secret from all the 
Avorld, and that ihe paper in question, now 
37 years old, was never seen by any human 
being before her death. At the time of its 
execution she was exactly fourteen years and 
seven weeks old, was in possession of all the 
comforts of life, and had as brilliant pros- 
pects before her as any of her sex in Caroli- 
na. The only serious affliction she had then 
met widi Avas the loss of her mother. This 
had taken place three years and seven months 
before, and the keen sensations occasioned 
thereby must, in the ordinary course of things, 
havebeen nearly worn off'by time. The engage- 
ments thus solemnly entered into by Miss 
Laurens were in unison with her subsequent 
conduct through life. Of the sincerity of the 
transaction, on her part, on a view of all its 
circumstances, no doubt can exist. 

In the year 1775, James Laurens, his wife 
and two nieces, Martha Laurens and Mary 
Eleanor I/runeus, afterward the wife of 
Ciiarles Pinckoej, went to England. Mar- 
tha Laurens was j*eceived on her landing by 
her elder brother, John Laurens, from whom 



MRS. RAMSAY. ^^ 



slie had been for some years separated. Be- 
ing older, he had taken great delight in for- 
warding her education, and particularly, in 
forming her mind to be superior to the com-^ 
mon accidents of life, and the groundless 
fears of some of her sex. To ascertain 
whether his labours had been successful or 
not, he bribed the postillion to drive very 
rapidly, and at the same time, without dis- 
covering his views, narrowly watched her 
countenance, to observe whether there were 
any changes in it expressive of womanish 
fears at the novel scene, so totally different 
from all her former travelling in the low, flat, 
stoneless country of Carolina. On the ter- 
mination of the experiment to his satisfaction^ 
he announced to his unsuspecting sister his 
congratulations, that " he had found her the 
same Spartan girl he had left her." 

In 1775, when Miss Laurens left Ameri- 
ca, she destroyed all lier private papers, ex- 
cept the act of self dcdicauon, just mention- 
ed. These were numerous, though tlie last 
of them were written before s]ie liad com- 
pleted her sixteenth year. They chiefly 
consisted of devotional remarks on passing 
events; statements of the religious exercises 
of her mind; a diary, and extracts from 
books she had read. This destruction she 
often regretted, but consented to it, from the 
prospect of jan itinerant life, during her exile 

B 9 



io MEMOIRS OF 

from liome, and still more, from the unset- 
tled state of her native country on the com- 
mencement of the revolutionary war. The 
same process, with the exception of two pa- 
pers,* and for the same reasons was repeated 
some years after, when she went from Eng- 
land to France. During her residence in 
England she wrote much, and her subsequent 
regret was greater for its destruction.! She 

* See Appendix, No. 111. for copies of these two papers. 

f Since writiMg this sentence the editor had reason to 
hope, that something of injportance, written hy Miss Lau- 
rens, M'hile in England, was still i?i existence, and irv the 
possession of her intimate friend, Miss Brailsford ; accord- 
ingly he, hy letter, asked for information, and requested if 
such writing existed, to he favoured with its perusah To 
his api)lication the ibIlAwing answer was returned. 
Sir, 

In consequence of your application of yesterday, T enclose 
for your perusal two small hooks of reflections given me 
many years since, hy my late much loved friend, dear Mrs. 
llamsay ; hut under such injunctions that no human eye 
but my own shouh! ever see them, that I never thought 
myself at liberiy to sliow them, even to my beloved moth- 
er, and I can scarcely think myself justified in doing what 
I now do. Yet the very close relation in which you were 
united to lier, makes me particularly anxious to comply 
with your request ; and I trust if her pure and highly ex- 
alted spirit now beholds me, slie does not disapprove this 
act. I beg to he most aflectionately remembered to yom: 
dear family. 

And remain, sir, 

Your humble servant, 

Elizabeth Brailsford. 
June 29, 1811. 

For the papers thus providentially brought to view, 
though their existence was unknown a«d unsuspected whca 
this work commenced, see Aiipendix, No. IV. 



MRS. RAMSAY. 19 

afterward either discontinued writing, or de- 
stroyed what she wrote, for no papers of any 
consequence have been found among her 
manuscripts, as written during the subsequent 
seven years of her residence in Europe. 

During the first years of the American rev- 
olution, and for a short period after its ter- 
mination, Miss Laurens resided in various 
parts of England, improving her mind and 
preparing herself for meeting the contemplat- 
ed loss of her father, brother, and fortune by 
the events of war, and at the same time 
doing every office of love to her afflicted un- 
cle. She afterward continued the same kind 
services to him for several years in France. 
In that country, in the year 1784, he was 
released by death,* from a long protracted, 
painful complaint, under whicli he had la- 
boured for the last ten years of his life ; and 
his surviving friends, with pious sacrilege, 
stole for him a grave, in which they deposit- 
ed his remains. Mr. James Laurens having 
no children of his own, proposed to leave the 
bulk of his estate to Miss Laurens, his faitk- 

* When Mr. James Laurens died in Visjan, his niece 
Martha Laurens was with her father in England, '^he 
started cut of bed, and pronounced that her uncle was 
just dead ; and at her request the day and hour was coni- 
Kiitted to writing, by Miss Futerell. In tlie ordinary course 
of the posts between the two countries, intelligence of his 
death arrived, and the day and hourof it precisely correspond- 
ed with what had been recorded us aforesaid ia England. 



20 MEMOIBS OF 

fill nurse, and affectionate niece ; but she 
peremptorily rcruscd the acceptance thereof 
to the deterioration of the reasonable ex- 
pectations of her brothers and sister. The 
w\]\ >vas framed agreeable to her wishes ; 
but the testator, in addition to a child's share, 
left her a speeiiic legacy of five hundred 
pounds sterling, declared in his will to be ** a 
token of his friendship for her ; and as an ac- 
knowledgment for the services she had ren- 
dered to him and his family, and for her good 
and gentle conduct upon all occasions." 

While Miss Laurens resided in England, 
she formed an acquaintance with many per- 
sons eminent for their piety, and particularly 
with the countess of Huntingdon, by whom 
she was very much noticed. She highly 
prized the company of such persons, and 
fi'om them received both pleasure and im- 
provement. 

After tJfe treaty of France with congress, 
in 1778, and particularly the rejection in the 
sam<) year of the offers of Great Britain, for 
a reunion witli her late colonies, the situation 
of the Carolina Laurens family in England was 
unpleasant. Henry Laurens was at that time 
president of congress, and had oihcially con- 
ducted the correspondence of that body with 
the British commissioners, which terminated 
in a rejection of their offers. Miss Laurent 
was often obliged to hear her native country 



Hms. RAMSAt. 2 1 

abused, and to read and lit^ai* liei* beloved 
father calumniated as a fomentor of tlie dis- 
putes between Britain and her colonies ; and 
as an aspiring, ambitious man, vvisliing to 
rise to consequence at every hazard; but 
taught hy his sage advice, and her own 
good sense, she shunned all political contro- 
versy. Unable to render her suftering coun- 
try any other service, she daily offered up 
her fervent prayers in its behalf. 

Mr. James Laurens, his two nieces, and 
their aunt, or second mother, finding it expe- 
dient to leave England, passed over to France, 
and lived there till the re-establishment of 
peace. During the greatest part of this pe- 
riod, of six or seven years, and the whole of 
the time of their residence in England, they 
were almost wholly cut off from their usual 
means of support, for their property was in 
America, three thousand miles distant. War 
raged, and the Atlantic ocean rolled between 
them and it. In this forlorn situation they 
found ample occasion for all the comforts of 
that religion which they professed. The 
greatest economy was necessary. A resi- 
dence in Vigan was preferred on account of 
the cheapness of living. There Miss Laur- 
ens spent her time usefully to her uncle, prof- 
itably to herself, and as pleasantly as strait- 
ened circumstances, anxiety for her friends 
and native countrv, then the seat of war. 



^2 



IVIEMOIRS OF 



would pe]*nih. She liatl masiv opporiuiiitier 
of ii^5|K oving licr mind by reading and con- 
veisati<m, which slie diligently improved. 
She aiid tlie family of her uncle received 
great civilities fiom the French, for the 
same reasons that they received slights from 
the English. But nevertheless, they had all 
abundant scope for the exercise of faith, pa- 
tience, and trust in that Being to whom they 
had committed all their concerns. Love to 
their common Father in heaven, and love 
and harmony among themselves sweetened 
their frugal repasts, and took away the bit- 
terness of the cup of affliction from which 
they were obliged deeply to drink. 

In the year 17S0, Miss Laurens's father 
was taken a prisoner, and confined on a charge 
of high treason in the tower of London, and 
his life staked on the success of the American 
revolution. If that had failed, it would have 
been easy to have convicted him of the crime 
with wliich he was charged, and not easy to 
liave saved hi;u from the penalty annexed to 
it. The disorder of her imcle became daily 
worse, and required unceasing attention by 
night, and by day. Cimrleston was taken by 
the British ; Cajoliria overrun by their ar- 
mies ; remit (assces were not only^ rendered 
im[sossibhN but Ihe loss of tlse whole capital 
extremely probable. I'lie alarms of her fa- 
ther, at the commencement of the war, seem- 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



ed to be on the point of bein^' realized. About 
the same time, intelligeaee was received that 
her dearly beloved brolljer, John Lainens, 
had fallen in battle. Under this compil- 
eation of distresses, she found tha wisdom 
and comfort of having secured a friend in her 
Maker, by a solemn covenant, entered into 
>vith him in the morning; of life, and in the 
full enjoyment of health, and in the lair pros- 
pect of every worldly bk'ssini^. From this 
source she drew much eoosolaSiori, and bore 
up under every triaJ, trusting-- in Him to 
^vhom she had, in a mo^t solemn manner, 
consecrated herself. In due time the clouds 
of adversity began to disperse ; the prospects 
of America brightened. Ifer father was dis- 
charged from cosifinement, and after a sepa- 
ration of seven years, she joined him in Pa- 
ris, and presided over his domestic concerns, 
while he assisted in the n»\e;otiations which 
terminated in peace and the acknowledged 
independence of the United States. The 
transition from iha nurse's efjamber, in a re- 
mote country phiee, to tijc head of the table 
of a minister p!enij)oten{iary in the metropo- 
lis of France, was great and sudden. Amidst 
the gayeties of Paris, in which she occasion- 
ally indulged, lier bible was her companion 
and counsellor. She read it by day, and med- 
itated on it by niglit. Jt had taught her to 
bear adversity with patience, resignation, and 



MEMOIRS OF 



fortitude ; and now kept her from the intox- 
icatioii and follies, wliich are too apt to grow 
out of prosperity. . , 

About this time, Miss Laurens received 
from her latlier, a present of five hundred 
c-uineas. For some years before she had 
been obliged to live in restricted circum- 
stances, from tlie impossibility of receiving 
supplies. To make up for this suspension ot 
her father's usual liberality, he gave her the 
above mentioned sum at once. Ot this she 
appropriated only a small part to her own 
,,sc. With t!ie surplus she purchased one 
bundled French testaments, which was the 
^vholc number at market; gave them away ^ 
llmon^• the poor, in and near Vigan, and also 
esta])iislied a school for the instruction ot the 
youth in the same place, engaged a master to 
preside over it, and constituted a fund to de- 
fray its annual expenses. There is reason to 
lielieve that the institution continues to this 
day, for the funds left were fully adequate 
to Us support in that part of France, where 
ihe expenses of education and living, w ere 
tlicn astonishin^gly low. 




MRS. RAMSAY. 25- 

The restoration of peace to Carolina in 
1783, pointed out the propriety orilie return 
of the inhabitants. Miss I.awrens, with her 
aunt ami sister, ari'ived in Charleston in 1785. 
after a long absence, comprehending' some- 
thing more than the whole period of (ht? 
American reyolution. Their joy on iir.ding 
their native country at peace, and raised 
from the humble rank of a dependent colony 
to that of an independent state, was inexpres- 
sible. Now, for the iirst time, after leading 
an unsettled life for ten year's, they fousui 
themselves at home. On the 23d of J^inuary, 
1787, Miss Laurens was married to Dr. J)a- 
vid Ramsay, and in the course of the ensuing 
sixteen years, became the mother of eleven 
children. Of these eight survived. Mrs. 
Ramsay now displayed the same virtuous 
Iiabits, and the same energy of character, in 
taking care of her children, in promoting her 
husband's happiness, and making a well or- 
dered home his chief delight, that had form- 
crly distinguished Miss Laurens in acquiring 
useful knowledge, and discharging the duties 
of a daughter, a sister, and a niece. Soon 
after she became a mother, she studied with 
deep interest most of the esteemed practical 
treatises on education, both in French and 
English, that she might be better informed 
of the nature and extent of her new duties. 

She gave a decided preference to the writ- 
c 



26 V MEMOIP.S OF 



in«'s of Mr. Locke and Di*. AVitlierspoon on 
that subjeel. The object sl.c proposed to 
herseli was to obtain ibi- her chiidrcii, lieaUh 
of body and a well regidakd misid. I'o se- 
cure the former, they were fioni their bulli 
daily washed in cold water, and throughout 
the whole period of infancy, permitted to ex- 
pose themselves with imcovered feel, to wet 
and coid, and all tlie varieties and sudden 
changes of Carolina weather. To favour the 
latter, they were taue;ht to curb their tem- 
pers; to subject their passions to the supreme 
dominion of reason and religion ; to practise 
self denial; to hear disappointments; and to 
resist the importunity of present pleasure or 
pain, for the sake of what reason pronounces 
fit to be done or borne. She suckled all her 
chiMren without the aid of any wet nurse ; 
Avatched over tliem by night and day ; and 
clun'^' to them every moment of sickness or 
painf They were the subjects of her prayers 
before thev were born, and every subsequent 
dav of her life. With one exception she de- 
voted them all to God in baptism, publicly in 
church, at a time, wiien private baptisms 
%vere common ; for she rejoiced in every 
proper opportunity of declaring to the w orld 
her lirm belief of the christian religion, and 
her respect for all its institutions. As soou 
as they were capable of receiving religious 
instruction, she liberally imparted it 5 and 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



27 



early faiiglit llieiii their iiiiseraljlc am] cor- 
ri5j>ted state by nature ; that they were bora 
into a world of sin and misery, surrounded 
with teni|>tations ; and without a possibility 
of salvation, but by the grace of God, aud a 
participation in tlie benefits procured fc r sin- 
ners, by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, 
and at the same time, that God was the hear- 
er of prayer, the tenderest of fathers, and the 
best of friends to all who put their trust in 
him. She early taught them to read their 
bibles. That this might be done pleasantly 
she connected with it Mrs. Trimmer's prints 
of scripture history ; that it might be done 
with understanding, she made them read, in 
connection with their bibles, Watts's short 
view of the whole scripture history, and, as 
they advanced to a proper age, Newton on 
the Prophecies ; and such books, as connect 
sacred with profane history, and the Old with 
the New Testament; so that the Bible, though 
written in periods widely remote from each 
other, might appear to them a uniform, har- 
monious system of divine truth. Of this 
blessed book she enjoined upon them daily 
to read a portion, and to prize it as the 
standard of fuith aud praefiec; as a com- 
munication from heaven on eternal concerns; 
as the word of God pointing out the only- 
way to salvation; as a letter of love sent 
from their heavenlv Father to direct their 
wandering feet to the paths of truth and 



MEMOIRS OF 



irappliiess. From it she was tauglit "that 
foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, 
but the rod of correction shall drive it far 
from liini.'^ She therefore, on proper oc- 
casions, used the rod, but always with dis- 
cretion and judgnient, sometimes with pray- 
er, often with tears, but never with anger. 
She was well acquainted Avitli the plans of 
llousseau, and other modern reformers, who 
are for discarding the rod and substituting 
confinement, and other visionary projects in 
its place ; but considered them all as inferior 
in efficacy, to the prudent use of the rod ; and 
believed that nothing injured the temper less, 
or more effectually promoted the proper end 
of punishment in young subjects, than corpo- 
ral pain, applied judiciously and simultane- 
ously with the offence ; and that the modern 
substitutes for the rod often nourished a sul- 
len obstinacy of temper, without mending the 
heart or practice. As her children advanced 
in years, she conducted her sons through a 
course of education fitting them to enter col* 
lege, and Avith the help of her tried and ac- 
complished friend, Miss FuterelL she carried 
her daughters at home through the several 
studies taught in boarding schools. In every 
period of her adult age, whether married or 
single, when, from accidental circumstances, 
she was the head of the family, and in health, 
she daily read to her domestic circle, a por~ 



ivms. RAZ^ISAY. 



2<J 



lion of the boly sei-iptures, anti prayed with 
them ; and frequently on particular occa- 
sions, with one or more individuals of it, and 
regularly, every Sunday, with her young white 
and black fapiily, in addition to catechetical 
instructions given to both at the sajne time. 
In case of a temporary separation, extraordi- 
nary deliverance, providence, misconduct, or 
even of a quarrel among her boys, she would 
take the parties and present them with her- 
self before the throne of Grace, and in a sol- 
emn address to their common heavenly Fa- 
ther, and her covenant God, state all the cir- 
cumstances of the case, and implore of him 
by his grace, to give them the temper, dispo- 
sition, and views, which wei'c suitable to their 
situation and condition, ^ She prized prayer 
as the courtier does a key, that at all times 
gives him access to the presence of his sove- 
reign ; and in all the important transactions 
of her life, resolved on nothing till she had 

* It is remarkable, that from aiul aftei' the time col. John 
Laurens was killed in South Carolina, August t27th. 1782, 
his sister, the subject ot tl»ese memoirs, then in Vigan, 
never put up a prayer for him, though she was previously 
in the habit of praying frequeiill}- for him ; and his death 
was unknown to her for two or three siionths after it had 
taken place. She mentioned the fact, without pretending 
to account for it, and added, that she several times wondei*- 
ed at her omission of that usual part of her duty, and re- 
solve(' to retire for the purpose of praying for her brother; 
but that in every such case, some sudden call or other un- 
expected event interposed to prevent hjpr doing so. 

C2 



5.0 MEMOIRS QF 

previously soiii»lit direction of God respect- 
ing it. 8Iie might be said to live a life of 
prayer, for she incorporated it ^vitli her dai- 
ly business, and was so habituated to its con- 
stant practice, that prayers frequently con- 
stituted a part of her dreams. Believing 
most thoroughly that God's providence ex- 
tends to every event and every circumstance 
of tlie life of every human being, and sub- 
scribing to the doctrine of Dr. Leechman, in 
his excellent sermon on prayer, which she 
liighly prized, *• that it is as absurd to expect 
we shall arrive at virtue and happiness with- 
out prayer, as it would be for the husband- 
man to hope he shall have his usual crop, 
though he bestow none of his usual labour 
asid industry." She practically conformed 
to the apostolic precept ** pray without ceas- 
ing," and daily brouglit before her Maker 
the cases of herself, family, friends, neigh- 
bours, and sometimes of strangers, whose 
situation was known to be interesting. 

She was a constant and devout attendant 
on divine service ; steadily recorded the text, 
and occasionally made a short analysis of the 
sermon. * She generally spent a considera- 

* These memorandums, with pious notices of passing 
providences, prayers, and other religious exercises and 
records of the state of Mrs. llamsay's mind, on important 
occasions, were entered by her in books in the form of a 
diary, out with considerable chasms. For extracts from 
this diary, see Appendix, !N°. V. 



M^S. RAMSAY. 3* 

Me part of the intci-vals of public worship, in 
catechising and instructing; her chiWren and 
servants ; in reading with them the Bible and 
other good books, particularly <* Burkitt's 
help and guide to Christian families/' In 
performing this duty, she placed her children 
around her, and read alternately with them 
verses in the Bible, and Watts's Psalms and 
Hymns, or sentences in other religious books, 
so as to teach them at the same time, by her 
example, the art of reading with emphasis 
and propriety. The exercise was occasion- 
ally varied by reading in the same manner 
the New Testament in Greek, with her sons, 
and in French with her daughters. From 
the seventeenth year of her age, she was a 
regular, steady, and devout attendant on the 
communion. In this she found so much 
comfort, that she regretted absence from it, 
us a serious loss. She possessed herself of 
the names of the new members admitted to 
it from time to time, and recorded =^ them as 

* On one occnslon, to the record of the names of the per- 
sons lulmittcd to the Cv)mmunion, the foUowhig verses are 
.s-.i1)joiM'j(i. 

Pity the Nations, O our God, 
Constrain the world to come; 
Send thy victorious word abroad. 
And bring the strangers home. 

We long to see thy churches full. 
That ail the ransomed race. 
May with one voice, and heart and soul. 
Sing thy redeeming grace. 



32 



IMEMOIRS OF 



brothers and sisters in Christ, who broke witii 
lier the bread of life, at the same table of 
their coninion Lord, and prayed for each in- 
dividual of them, whether she had any per- 
sonal acquaintance with lliem or not, and took 
a pariicular delight in rendering to them, 
and her other fellow conimunjcarsts, every 
kind office in her power ; for she had high 
ideas of the commusiion of saints amont-;; them- 
selves, as being conjoined into one nnystical 
body of Christ, throtigliout this world, and 
partly in heaven, all united nnder one com- 
mon head, and bound to each other by pecul- 
iar ties. 

Mrs. Ramsay was uncommonly economi- 
cal of her lime. She suffered none of it to 
be wasted. By rising early she secured the 
Hfiost valuable portion of it for devotion and 
business. A reasonable part of, every day 
>vas spent in religious exercises. Much in 
.J'eading well chosen books, and also in copy- 
ing original papers for her father and hus- 
band ;^ much in working, for the accommo- 

* She wrote very fast, and, at the same, a round, distinct, 
legihle hand. Her father pi-onouiiced her to be the best 
•clerk he ever employed ; and it is well known to his con- 
temporaries, in business, that he had many, and that sev- 
eral of them were very good ones. In addition to many 
Tviinor services in copying, she transcribed for her husband 
his History of the American Revolution, Life of Washing- 
ton, Review of the J'rogiess of medicine in the eighteenth 
century, and the early pai't of his Univei'sal History, now 
ready for publication, nor did she desist, till she had traift- 
cd her daughters to do as she had done. 



MRS. RAMSAY. 33 

(jatioiioT her family ;'-^ and isuichin teaclung 
lier ciiildren, and fonulng' theii* minds to vii*- 
tue, and kno\vkdge,j and often a consid- 
erable part of it in writing letters:): to her ab- 
sent friends. In these she was grave or gay 

* In every kind of fenjale cm]»loyinent, slie was very ex- 
pert, and des\)atched a great de:i! of business in a little time. 
In reading, writing, and working, she was equally expedi- 
tious, and in each department, performed as much as could 
reasonably be expected, from one who was exclusively em- 
ployed in that alone. 

The amount done in every case was not diminislied by 
the extremity of heat, in a Carolina summer. On the con- 
trary, she often impressed on her children, that steady , con- 
stant light work under cover, diminished the sensation of 
heat, while it was increased in the case of a listless, com- 
plaining, unemployed person. 

t" In teaching, Mrs. Ramsay possessed more than ordina- 
ry resources, and took more than ordinary pains. For her 
first children, she compiled an English grammar, being 
dissatisfied with what had been written by Lowth, Ash, and 
others; butwhenshe became acquainted with Lindlay Mur- 
ray's writings, she laid aside her own compcnd, and receiv- 
ed his, as throwing new light on what before was obscure. 
She taught her children, to read such bO{)ks, as she pointed 
out to them, with care and attention ; and repeatedly, till 
the substance, not the words, of what they read, was im- 
printed on their minds. This she preferred to loading the 
memory with long extracts, committed verbatim. That 
they might be exercised in this more profitable way, she 
px"epared questions, on the most interesting portions of an- 
cient and modern histoi-y ; particularly, Asiatic, Roman, 
English, and biblical history. These they were expected 
to answer from their general know ledge of the subject ; 
h'M, without committing the answers to memorv. She has 
left behind her three packets of historic questions of this 
kind, v.hich were iier text book, in examining her children, 
v.hen reading historical works, 
•it.l-'or extracts from the«e letters, sec At>pendix, N°. VI. 



o4 



MEMOIRS OF 



as the subject required. In writing letters 
of consolation, to persons in affliction, slie ex- 
celled. In other eases, w licre fancy was ad- 
missible, the spi'ightliness of her imagination, 
gave a brilliasicy to trilles, which imparted 
to them an interest of wliich they seemed 
scarcely susceptible. With a few exceptions 
she declined all visits in the day, as destruc- 
tive of her plans for making every hour turn 
to the best account. When the business of 
the day was ended, she indulged her social 
habits. The number of books she read, was 
astonishingly great, and her memory uncom- 
monly strong, in retaining Wa^ substance of 
th( ir contents. She could recite nearly the 
ivliole of Young's Night Thoughts, without 
book. Psalm and prayer books, were to 
her unnecessary ; for their contents were 
imprinted in her mind. With the Holy 
Scriptures she was intimately acquaint- 
ed, and could readily quote, or turn to any 
i.^\U or passage, bearing on any present sub- 
ject of conversation. The Latin aod Greek 
classics, she had read in trarsslations, at a 
very early period. Ey catching from her 
brother, by studying occasionally his Lat- 
in grammar, and boo!;s ; and by the aid 
of an accurate knowledge of the French 
language, and the general principles of gram- 
mar, as applied to the Eiiglisli and French 
languages, she laid such a foundation, that 



MRS. RAMSAY. 2? 

>Ylien she became tke iiiotlicr of children, foi* 
their sakes she ran over the Latin and Greek 
classics, in Ihe short method recommended 
by Mv, Locke, so as to make her a profitable 
insti-uctoi* to them, in these languages. With 
the same views, she began, and to a consid- 
erable extent prosecuted the study of botany. 
From the same versatility of genius, and 
liabits of industry, after she was married, 
she read witii attention, most of the practi- 
^ cal writers on medicine, that are usually put 
' into the hands of medical students ; and studi- 
ed with particular interest, such of them, as 
treat of the diseases of women^and children. 
In times of general sickness, when her hus- 
band was full of business, she frequently 
shortened his labours, in studying cases of 
peculiar difiicuhy, by running over his books, 
and iinding similar cases ; and collecting in 
one view, for liis inspection, the opinions and 
practice of standard medical authors, on dis- 
eases of the same nature. She was familiar 
with most of the modern works of genius, 
taste, ar»d imagination, written in the English 
and French language and enjoyed them. In 
solid learning, she was not deficient. Locke's 
essay on the Human Understanding, AVatts's 
Logic, Improvement of the Mind, Philosoph- 
ical Essays, and other works of science, were 
the studies of her youth. To these, as she 
grew up, she added natural and civil history,. 



\ 



S6 



WEMOmS OF 



biography, astronomy, clironology, pliiloso- 
phy, voyages, travels, &c. Isi divinity, she 
read much of what was practical, but rarely 
looked into any thing that was controversial. 
A few fundamental doctrines, sucli as free 
salvation, by the atoning sacrifice of the coe- 
qual Son of God, and sanclification by the Spir- 
it, she considered as essenlial, pjm] worth con- 
tending for ; but disputes on minor, unessen- 
tial points, she considered as injurious to 
peace, harmony, and the best interests of re- 
ligion, and' would not waste her time in stud- 
ying tliem, any fartlier than r.iaking up her 
opinion on pas'tieular points, from wliat ap- 
peared to her own mind, to be revealed \n the 
\vopd of God. If that was silent, or did not 
decide for oragrlnst any opinion or pi'aetice, 
she took no fartJier pains in its investigation. 
Though she hig!ily delighted in the elFusions 
of genius, and elegancies of faic writing, she 
found great profit arid pleasure in reading 
the plain, but substantial, practical vvorks of 
some of llie old divines, of the seventeenth, 
and early periods of the eighteeiith century. 
Baxter, Flavel, Boston, Owen, AH :m, Ih^eiin- 
court, Henry, Burkitt, Watts, and Doddridge, 
and some others of the same stamp, were her 
favourite authors. These she read with at- 
tention, and underscored with a pencil such 
passages, as were most interesting. From 
Henry's Exposition of the Scriptures, she 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



37 



made considerable transcripts, Avliich have 
been found in packets of her \\r;tin<^'. She 
felt a partieuhu* interest in the prosperity of 
a family in Charleston, descended from the 
famous riiomas jjoston. of Ettrick, in Scot- 
land, author of a book, entitled, •* The Cs^ook 
in the Lot, or the Sovercij^nty and Wisdom 
of G( >d, in the aiHietions of man ;'' from the 
reading of which, she had received much 
comfort and benefit. 0\ven on i'ldwelling 
Sin, and FlaveJ on Providence, and on keep- 
ins; the heart, she repeatedly read. Anmng 
her papers has been found an abridgment of 
the last mentioned work, made by herself, 
and written with her own hand.* 



^ ABRIDCMEXT. 

'I'o keep the heart, is curefiilly to preserve it from sin, 
•which (lisnrtlers it, and maiiitain that spiritual frame, uhich 
fits it for a life of coinniunion with God ; and this keeping,- 
of the heart, iiichides in it, these six acts. 1st. Frequent 
examinations of the frame <if the heai't turning in, and ex- 
amining how the case stands with it. 

2d. Deep humiliation, under a sense of soul disorders, 
and heart evils 

3d. Earnest prayer to God, for heart purifying and recti- 
fying gJ ace, when sin iiath defiled and disordered it. 

4th. The imposing of strong engjigements and honds upon 
ourselves,' to walk more accui-fctely with God, and avoid tiie 
occasions, wherehy the heart may he induced to sin. 

5th. A constant, holy jealousy, over our own hearts ; 
and, 

6th. A realizing sense of God's presence with us, and a 
setting the f.ord always hefore us. 

To keep th • heart, is hard work ; constfint work, and 
the most impoitant work; the honour of God ; the sincer- 

9 



38 



MEMOIRS OF 



From Ibis strict diHcipHne of the heait, 
ol»tained by the means before mentiuhtd, 

il of our profession ; the beauty of our conversHtion ; the 
C'Vifort of cur souls; the improvement of our graces and 
oui stability in the hour of tenipt-Uion, are all wrapt up in, 
and dependent on our care and sin«erity', in heart work. 

JMoHves for keeping the heart. 

1st. The studying and keeping the heart, helps the un- 
derstanding in the deep mysteries of religioii. 

2d. It preserves it against the infection of <laiigerous er- 
rors. 

3d. It is one of the best evidences of sincerity. 
4tii. All ordinances would be fruitful, sweet, and com- 
fortable, if our hearts were better kept. 

5th. Vcquamtance with the heart, furnishes a fountain of 
matter f<.i- prayer. 

Ciii. B* k.eping the heart, tlie decayed pou er of religion, 
will be ret !)vered aajong professors 

7tii. By diliger.tly keepn»g the heart, v.e shall prevent, 
and remove scandals and stunihling blocks out of the world. 
8lh. A heart welt kept, will fit us for any condition, God 
casts us into, or any service he hath to use ns in. 

9th. Diligently to keep the heart would exceedingly 
sweeten the communion of saints. 

10th. By keeping the heart, the comforts of the spirit, 
and precious influences of all ordinances wouUI be fixed, 
aiid much longer preserved on the soid than they now are. 
Look over these ten special benefits; weigh them in a 
jiist balance Are they small matters? Is it a small thing 
to have thv weak understanding assisted ; thine endanger- 
ed soul antidoted ; thy sincerity cleared; thy communion 
with God sweetened \ Is it a small thing to have the de- 
Caved power of ^'Odliness revived ? all fatal scandals re- 
moved ; the cooimuaion of Saints restored to its primitive 
glory, and the inflaenees of ordinances, abiding in the souls 
of Saints? if th.se be no common blessiiigs, no small bene- 
fits ; tiK'n surely it is a great duty to keep the heart with, 
ail diligence.. 



MRS. RAMSAY. S9 

eoiisequcnces resuhed wliieli were not eon- 
templaU^il. In attcrulance on the coininujiion, 

special means for keeping' the heart. 

Means Ist. ^\ oul«1 yon thus keep your heart as hath 
been reconimende«l ; tlicu funiisfi you!- hearts nehly with 
the word of (jO(I, whicii is tlie best preservMive I'gvin^-.t sin. 

*2d Call your hemts t"i etpjetitly to an account, if ever 
you mean to kee]) tlieut with dofl. 

3A. Take heed of plunging into such a multiplicity of 
earthly business as you cannot manage without neglecting 
your main business. 

4th. CarefliHy obser%'e the heart's first declensions /"rom 
God, and stop tlieni there. 

5th. Take heed of losing the liveliness, and sweetness, of 
j'our communion with God, lest thereby your hearts be 
loosed oif from God. 

6th. Habituate thy heart to spiritual meditation, if thotl 
•wouldst have it freed from base burdensome diversion 

Words of consolation to those who are plying heart work, 
groaning and weeping in secret, over the hairiness, pric'e, 
earthliness, and vanity of th« ir hearts ; fearing and trem- 
bling over the experienced deceitfulness, and falseness ojf 
them. 

1st. This argues the heart to be upi-ight and honest, 
■whatever thy other gifts and abilities may be. 

2d. God would never leave thee un<ler so many heart 
troubles, and burdens, if he intended not thy real benefit 
thereby 

.3d. God will shortly put a blessed end to all these 
troubles, cares, and watching. The time is coming whea 
thy heart shall be as thou wouldst have it, when thou sh dt 
be disciimgsjd of all these cares, fears, and sorrows, and 
ne\(.r cry out. Oh ni\ hai-(l, my proud, my vain, mj eurth- 
ly heart, any more. When all darkness sljall be banished 
from thy uitderstanding and thou sh;dt clearly discover all 
truths in God. that crystal f.-cean of truth, when all vanity 
sh i!i be purged out of thy thoughts, and they be everlast- 
ingly, ravishingly and delightfully entertained and exercised 
upon that supreme goodiiess, and infinite excellency of G(,d, 
from who'H they shall never start any more, like a brf^ken 
hrn . And, as fir thy pri.le, passion, earthliness, and all 



49 



^MEMOIRS OF 



and other religious exercises, ilw. subject of 
these memoirs seldom had any wandering 

the other matters of tliy complniiit aiul trouble, it shall be 
said of them, as ol" the Egyptians to Israel, "Stand still, 
and see the Salvation of God." These corruptions thou 
seest to day ; henc^foi-th, thou shalt see them no more for 
ever; when thou shjilt lay down t!iy weapons of prayers, 
tears, and groans ; and put on the armour of light, not to 
fight, but to triumph in. 

Lord, when shall this blessed day come ? how long, how 
long, holy and true ? My soul waiteth for thee ; come my 
bel'ived.. come, <J come quickly, and deliver me from this 
body of sin and death. 

Jiuies to keep the heart from distractions by vain thoiights 
in times of ihity. 

Help 1st. Sequester yourselves from all earthly employ- 
ments, and set apart some ti> ie for solemn pre])aralion to 
meet God in duty ^'h my soul, leave trifling , now be 
composed, watchful, and serious; this is no comn)on work; 
it is GofI work, .soid work, eternitv work. Pause a while 
tipoii thy si'is, wants, and trojibles ; keep thy thoughts a 
while in these, before tlsou add ixss thyself to God. 

2d. liavit g corapcsed i,hy heart by previous meditation, 
presently set a guard upon thy senses. 

3d. Beg of God, a mortified fancy ; when thy fancy is 
more mortified, thv thoughts will be more orderly and 
fixed. 

4th. If thou wouldst kcej) thy heart from these vain ex- 
cursions, realize to thvseif by faith, the holy and awful 
presence of G'>d in duties 

5th. \'aintain a praying frame of heart in the intervals 
of <Iuty 

6th. Rndeavour to engage, and raise thy affections to 
God, in duty, if thou wouldst have thy disti-nclions cured. 

7th. Mourn over the matter to God, and call in assistance 
from heaven, where vain thoughts assault thy heart in 
dutv, 

Sth. Look upon the success, and sweetness of thy duties, 
as very much depending upou the keeping of thy heart 
elosely with God in them. 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



■44 



thouglits. What was begun Avith a view to 
relii^'ioiis improvement, extended to olhei» 

9th. Look upon it as a great discovery of the sincerity, 
or hypocrisy of your homts, according as you find them 
careful or careless, in this matter. 

lOth. Jt will be of special use to keep thy heart with iiod, 
in duties to consider what influence ail tliy duties have on 
thine eternity. 

To this is subjoined the following impressive prayer, and 
act of contrition. 

•' 'iSlli. August. 1705. * An<l now having lately read this 
little book of Mr. Flavel's, on Keeping the Heart, w ith 
great attention; and endeavoured to fix in my memory the 
above rules ; may (jod enable me to profit by them, to la- 
bour to keep my heart with all diligence, that so I may 
liave an evidence to my own mind, that I am in earnest 
about religion; and that whenever my Lord shall come, he 
may find me thus watching, and thus praying; Lord i am 
weak, I am vile. 1 am a pooi- backsliding creature, oftea 
wandering, turning back to folly and relapsing into sins, 
over which I hope<l 1 h.ui gained some power. <.h hold, 
ihou me uj) ; watch for me, and so shall 1 be safe. Uh 
keep me from h'lu, or remove me from the land of sinning. 
Uh thou, who scarchest the heart, and triest the reins, thou 
knowcst that sin is nij greatest burden ; and yet alas, too 
often 1 fall into it; so that srjoietimes, I am ready to de- 
spair, and my soul is filled with the anguish of remoi'se and 
repentance ; and yet I am not cured. Uh sweet Jesus help- 
Uli friend of sinners, save. I know that it is an evil, and a 
]»itter thii/g to depart from God ; and yet i am bent to 
backsliding ; none can help but thou, Oh Christ; trembling 
I come to thee, whom 1 have so often ofiended ; yet to 
whom .should I go, but to thee, who alone hast pardo;-. and 
eternal life for such a wretcli, such a rebel, such a daily, 
hourls', ofi'ender as f am. 

*' Lord, my hands hang down from faintness in the way 
of duty, and my feet go luiaely in the path of holiness Oh 
let thy grace deliver me from every weight, especially 
from my most easily besetting sin ; that so i. either any 
hidden iniquity nor presumptuous transgression may ever 
have dominion over me." 
1)2 



42 



MEMOIRS OF 



niaKers. From habit she acquired such 
complete cominajid oves^ het* thoughts, that 
she could lix tliem by lui act of her will on 
science or business as well as on religion, so 
as to confine them to their proper object for 
the time without interruption. 

lii disclia!'gi?>g relative duties, Mrs. Ram- 
say was exesnpiiirj. As a cliiSd, she had a 
high opinioi) of |>arental authority; and to it 
she conceived herself as owing implicit obe- 
dience in every case not plainly inconsistent 
with the duly due to her God. It was there- 
fore a standing order to her servants, with- 
out a moiuent's delay, and without announc- 
ing the circumstance, to call her. not only 
fi'o'Ai business, {>ul from her most |?rivale re- 
tirement v/hensoever her father called for 
her services. She hm\ no scruple of doing 
that for him on Sundays, about which she 
had scruples of doi^Lg for herself. She rea- 
so'sed thus; "^^ Children, ob{*y your parersts 
in all things, for this is well pleasing to 
the Lord," Col, iii. 20. is a divine com- 
mand. The same antlmrity which enacted 
the foisflh commandment also enacted the 
fifth, and the minor duty should yield to the 
major. Never wa^ there a daughter nmre 
de^o^ed, attaelied, and obedient to her pa- 
rent than she was ; and !ier conduct flowed, 
not from instinct, accident, or exansple. but 
from principle. la the same manner she 



MRS. ramsaV. 34 

liad delcrmincii wliat were her conjugal du- 
ties. She was well acquainted with the plau- 
sible reasonings of modern theorists, who 
contend for the equality of the sexes ; and 
few females could support their claims to 
that equjility on better grounds than she 
might advance ; but she yiehled all preten- 
sions on this score, in conformity to the 
positive declarations of holy writ, of which 
the following weie full io the point, and in 
lier opinion outweighed whole volumes of 
human reasoning. ** In sorrow, thou slialt 
bring forth children, and thy desire shall be 
to thy husband, and he shall rule over (bee." 
Gen. iii. 16. •* Wives, submit yourselves 
liuto your own husbands as unto the Lord. 
For the husband is the head of the wife, 
even as Christ is the head of the chui'ch ; 
asid he is the Saviour of the body. Therefore, 
as the church is subject unto Christ, so let 
the wives be to their own husbands in every 
thing." Eph. v. 22, 23. 2*. In practice, as 
T/ell as theory, she acknowledged the de- 
pendent, subordinate condition of her sex ; 
and considered it as a part of the curse de- 
nounced on Eve, as being <* the first in the 
ti'ansgression." 1 Tim. ii. 13, 14. The most 
self denying duties of the conjugal relations 
being thus established on a divine founda- 
ti(m, and illustrated by those peculiar doc- 
trines of revelation on which she hung aU 



'^'4' MEMOIRS OF 

her hopes, the other dudes followed by an 
easy train of reasoning, and were affijction- 
ately performed. In this manner, the sub- 
ject of these memoirs used her bible as a 
system of practical ethics, from which she 
acquired a Ivnowledge of her true station, 
and also deduced such excellent rules of con- 
duct in life, as might be expected from cor- 
rect principles.* As a parent who had 



* To illustrate this, in detail, might excite a smile. Suf- 
fice it thei'efore to observe in general, that these reason- 
ings, from scripture, on the condition and duties of wives 
■were not imposed or even suggested to the subject of these 
memoirs. Tbey were entirely her own ; and had such a 
practical influence on her opinions, that she received the 
Htte'itions of her husband as favours, and was in the habit 
of subscribing herself in lettej-s to him his " obliged and 
grateful wife." These seed ideas expanded into princi|)ies 
of action, which led her to make all her conduct subservi- 
ent to her husband's happiness. To this end she gave up 
every separate scheme, and identified her views and pur- 
suits with his, and arranged all her domestic concerns, so 
as most effectually to promote his comfort, anticipated his 
wishes, alleviated his cares, charged herself with the edu- 
cation of her children, the management of h;.'r servants 
and "family uffairs, so as to leave for liim little else to do 
than to follow the bent of hisovvn inclinations, with as com- 
plete e\emption from the burden of domestic cares as was 
possible ; and in addition assisted him, as far as was in her 
power, in his professional labours and studies. Like her 
father, who seldom slept more than four hours in the twen- 
ty-four, she slept vei^' little, and that so lightly that the 
smallest noise awak»td her. She was therefore, the first to 
receive professional messages in the hours allotted to re- 
pose. After getting the necessary information, she so ar- 
ranged matters that these unseasonable calls were attended 
with the least possible inconvenience to hev husband. In 
copying for him, and tracing, through a variety of authors, 



3IRS. R AIMS AY. 45 

brous^ht cliiWren into a world of sin and mis- 
ery, without their consent, she considered 
herself as bound, in common justice, to do 
every thing in lier power for theii* comfort 
in passing through it. She thouglit no pains 
too great, no sacrilices too hard, provided 
lier children were advanced by them. In 
addition to her steady attention to their edu- 
cation, she exerted herself to keep them 
constantly in good humour ; gave them eve- 
ry indulgence compatible with their best in- 
terests; partook with them in their sports; 
and in various ways amused their solitary 
hours so as often to drop the mothei* in the 
companion and friend ; took a lively interest 
in all their concerns, and made every practi- 
ca!»!e exertion for their benefit. From the 
bible she was taught. ♦• Fathers, provoke not 
your children to anger, lest they be discour- 
aged.'' (jol. iii. 21. On this iexi she often 
coin;nentfr'<l verbally, and every day (»racti- 
cally. From it she drew several rules of 
conduct in her behaviour toward hev chil- 
dren. As a child, she was for implicit obe- 
dience, but as a mother was very moderate 
in urging her parental rights, and avoided. 



any subject on which he occasionally asked her sid, she 
shortened his literarv labours. Sucli wei-e the i>riiic'ples 
and conducJ of a wife wiio hf.d ro.ul Marv Wooistoucraft's 
l{itj[hts of Woinen, but studied hvv bible Avith care and at- 
tention, as the standard of faith and practice. 



46 ISIlEMOIRS OF 

as far as consistent with a strict education, 
every thing wliich might *» provoke her chil- 
dren to anger." Under tliis general head 
she considered as forhidden, unnecessary se- 
verity, sarcasms and all taunting, harsli, un- 
kind language; overbearing conduct, liigh 
toned claims of sui>eriority ; capricious or 
whimsical exertions of authority, and several 
other particulars, calculated to irritate chil- 
ilren or fill them with terror. On the other 
hand, she considered parents as required by 
this precept to curb their own tempers ; to 
bridle their passions ; to make proper allow- 
ances for indiscretions and follies of youth; 
and <o behave toward their otFsprings in the 
most conciliatory manner, so as to secure 
tlit^r love and aifections on the score of grati- 
tude. These and several other rules of con- 
duct in the discharge of relative duties were 
not taken up at random, but derived from 
reason and reflectioti. and especially from an 
attentive consideration of the preceptive part 
of the word of God. Happy would it be for 
society if all its members used their bibles 
for similar purposes. 

The reader will by this time expect to be 
informed that a person so industrious in busi- 
ness, with such moderate views of worldly 
enjoyment, and so devoted to God and active 
in his service, would be crowned with a large 
proportion of temporal blessings. But this 



3\mS. RAIVISAY. 4„' 

was not always the ease. With rier^ pros- 
perity and adversity alternated. Good atid 
evil iollowed each other in sueeession. For 
several of the last years of her life, in ad- 
dition to long continued and frequent attacks 
of painful disease, sufficient' to have laid by 
a less active person, she had to stru.^gle with 
restricted cii'cunistances. From several un- 
propitious events, pcrplexini^ embarrass^ 
ments resulted.^ From whatever source 



* Nearly the whole of Mrs. Ramsey's ])atornal estate 
consisted of unproductive Georgia funds. Aviiich, tVom the 
unsettled stale of our foreign relations fur the last iifleeii 
years of her life uoiild either not sell, cr ii' previously sold, 
v.ere not paid for. 'I"he most valuable part of it, fcr the 
eighteen years it was in her ]>ossession, jM'oduced nothing 
but annual ta.\es. The bulk, of the residue, tliough sold in 
the year 1793, has realized so little, that the surn originaliv 
due thereon, 21,4'2S dollars, instead of being lessened bV 
payments, had iu the course of the last thirteen years of 
her married life, increasei!, by the accunuihition of interesi, 
}o upward of 30,000 doll ;irs, of which neither p!incipal nor 
interest could be commanded. The hurricane of 1804 frus- 
trated a verbal contract tor the sale of anoth-er portion of 
her paternal Georgia lands, for five thousand poun<!s ster- 
ling, which still remains unsold and unj»roductive. Two 
houses, which descended to her fi'om her uncle, James 
Laurens, were burnt in the great fire of 1796. The hurri- 
cane of 1804 also fruslrnted a verbal contract for the sale of 
some of her husband's lauds for 24,0CK) dollars, wliich still 
remains unproductive ; and in addition 25,000 dollars paid 
by him between tlie years 1792 and 1797 toward complet- 
ing the Santee canal, have hitherto produced no income 
lo him or any one else, but one and a half per cent, on the 
capital, and that only for two years of the eighteen which 
have elapse<l since his first advances were made toward 
this publicly beneficial, but hitherto privately ruinouar 
project. 



48 MEMOIRS OF 

tliey oviginated, the subject of these me- 
moit's had no agency in producing; them, nor 
any ground for self rejH'oacli as being in any 
Vfwy accessory to tliem. The battle is not 
always to the strong;, nor the race to ti»e 
swift : nor is success in the pursuits of life 
invariably the effect of industry, econonsy, 
and moderation in expenses. Respecting 
these things there is an overruling Provi- 
dence. The continuance or the interruption 
of health, the power to get or retain wealJh 
come from God The subject of these me- 
moirs was neither the first nor the last of 
thf> favourites of Cfis'ist whom he has led to 
heaven otlierwise tlsan by a path strewn 
with flowers. God does not always suffer 
his children to pass through life without af- 
ilictions and sorrows, lest they should forget 
that this is not their abiding city ; lest their 
desires after the heavenly inheritance should 
be cooled or extinguished. These apparent 
evils have a certain, though to us a secret 
connection with our future and most injport- 
ant destinies. They are necessary links in 
the chain conducting from earth to heaven, 
and make us quit our eager grasp of the one, 
and lix our affections on the other. The 
storms of adversity, in this life, will make us 
enjoy, with a higher relish, the unclouded 
serenity of that which is to come. In her 
case, the result, though painful to her feel- 



MRS. RAMSAY. 



49 



ings, was highly favouraWc to her improve- 
ment in the christian viitues of palienre and 
resignation. No doubt exists of her liow 
wearing a brighter crown, and enjoying a 
greater harvest of happiness, as a reward for 
having borne her reverses of fortune, and 
also long continued painful diseases, not only 
without murmuring, but with clieerfuhiess. 
In sickness and adversity, slic was tlie same 
self possessed, unrepining, submissive, satis- 
fied christian she had been in the days of 
her health and prosperity, and was discon- 
tented with nothing but her heart. Ilcr 
maxim was not to complain of God, but to 
God. To him she went with all her burdens 
and cares,' and sweetly reposed on his Al- 
mighty arm. Her unabated eontidencc in 
her Maker; her unconditional submission 
and cheerful resignation to his will, took 
away from adversity its gloom, and tlirew 
over it a cheerful iiglit. The workings of 
lier mind, undes* these pressures, as I'eeorded 
in her manuscripts, prove her high attain- 
ments in the christian life, uml were probably 
one cause of them. In all her distresses, 
the burden of sin lay heavier on her mind 
than the burden of outward troubles. She 
was much more reconciled to death as clos- 
ing the scene of her sinning, than that of 
her suffering. SJie found great satisfaction 
in reading Drelincourt on Deaths and 

E 



50 

MEMOIRS OF 



^\aUs's World to Come. Sliortty before 
iier iast sickness, she brought to her husband 
unci requested him to read a speech delivered 
a fsundred jeai"s ago at the grave of a pious 
person by (jie Hev. Mr. Peter Sterry, whieli 
is preserved in the 352d page of Watts's 
World to Come. In it she had underscored 
the iollowmg sentiments as expressive of her 
leelmgs, wjth respect to the contemplated 
approaching coujuiitment of her body to the 
grave, and ils consequent dissolution therein. 
- We do for ourselves and for this our deai-lv 
beloved m the Lord accept of tliee. O'^rave 
and readily deliver up her body to thee. In 
is a body that hath been weakened an'l' 
weak-ied with long affliction and anguish : >ve 
freely give it unio thee ; receive it, and let is 
have m thee a quiet rest from all its labours.: 
Aor thus we read it written of thee, * Therii 
the wicked cease from troubling, and there 
the weary be at rest/ 

" But'we know thee, O grave, to be also 
a devourer, and y^t we can freely deliver uii 
the body unto thee. There was hi it a con- 
tracted corruptibility, dishonour and weak- 
ness ,• take them as <hy pi'oper i>rey ; they 
belong' to thee, and w€ would not withhold 
them from thee. Freely .walJow them up 
ior e^ver, that they may appear* no more. 
- let know, O grave, that there is in the 
, considered as once united to sucJi it 



MRS. RAMSAY, 



51 



sonl, a divine relation to the Lord of life, and 
this thou must not, thou canst not dissolve 
nor destroy. But know, and even hefore tliee, 
and over thee be it spoken, that there is a 
season hastening wherein we shall expect it 
again from thee in incorruption, honour, and 
power. 

** We now sow it unto thee in dishonour; 
but expect it again returned from thee in 
glory. We now sow it unto thee in weak- 
ness ; we expect it again in power. We now 
sow it unto thee a natural body ; we look for 
it again from thee a spiritual body.'' 

The life of Miss Carter was ©ne of the last 
books Mrs. Ramsay i*ead ; and she indulged 
the pleasing anticipation of speedily forming 
an acquaintance with a woman of her fervent 
piety and great attainments. But of all the 
inhabitants of heaven, she longed most for 
the acquaintance of Dr. Watts, whose divine 
songs, most of which she had committed to 
memory, had administeivd much to her com- 
fort by night and by day. 

From the first moment of her last sickness 
she had a 'presentiment that she would not 
survive it. This gave her no alarm. Slic 
made preparations for, and arranged the cir- 
cumstances of her funeral, with the same 
calmness and self possession she would have 
done in the days of her best health, when 
preparing for a journey or voyage- She 



^- IMEMOIRS OF 



directed that her funeral should be private; 
lier eoilin plain and uithout a i>laie; that 
J}v, Kijilinshead should pcrforjij iiis niiniste- 
riiil dtiiits (m tlie occasion in her* own house, 
before a few of her most particular friends* 
Her coffin was accordingly made of Carolina 
cedar. After she had given these directions, 
her disease seemed to \ield.; but she insisted 
that her feelings convinced her to <he con- 
trary. She suffered grievous pains in sundry 
periods of her last illness. To assist her in 
supj)orting under them she deliberately sur- 
veyed her manifold sins as the procuring 
cause of all pain, and also took a distinct 
view of the sufferings of Christ, and then 
asked herself, shall not I who have so griev- 
ously sinned, quietly submit to pain, which 
I deserve, since the innocent Jesus suffered 
so much for me ? On the last day but one of 
her life she lay for some considerable time 
in a warm bath. While there, she directed 
the following hymn from a collection of 
hymns j>resented to her by the countess of 
Huntingdon, to be read to her. 

When langiior and disease invade 
Tills trembling' house of clay, 
'I'is sweet to look be3'0nd our cage* 
And lonjj to fly away. 

Sweet to look inward and attend 
The whispers of his love ; 
Sweet to look upward to the place 
Where Jesus dwells above. 



IkfRS. RAMSAY. 



S3 



Sweet to look back and see my name 
In life's tail- book set down; 
Sweet to look forward and behold 
Eternal joys my own. 

Sweet to reflect how grace divine 
My sins on Jesus ifiid ; 
Sweet to remember that his blood 
My debt of suft''riug paid. 

Sweet in his righteousness to standj 
Which saves from second death ; 
Sweet to exiierience, day by day, 
His Spirit's quick'ning breath. 

Sweet on his faithfulness to rest, 
Whose love can never end ; 
Sweet on his covenant of grace 
For all things to depend. 

Sweet in the confidence of foilli 
To trust his firm decrees ; 
Sweet to lie passive in his hands 
And know no will but his. 

If such ti)e sweetness of the sti'eams. 
What must tlie fountain be, 
AVhere saints and angels draw the bliss 
Immediately from l bee. 

She repeated the two last lines oi* every verse, 
with eyes directed to heaven, as expressive 
of their coincidence Avith her views. She 
Lad frequently, in the conrsc of her sickness, 
given animated exhortations to her childreu 
and others to make choice of God for tljeir 
portion, and also particular directions how 
to manage the ftimily after she was gone. 
About four o'clock, r. m. June 10th. 1811, 

E2 



54 IVIEMOIRS, &c. 

slie asked Iier luisbaud and children if they 
were willinj^ to give her up. They evaded 
tlie (juestion ; but she in direct terms in- 
formed them that she had sometimes felt a 
repugnance to death on their accounts, but 
assured them tfiat God had now made her 
entirelj willing to give them all up; and in 
about an hour after expired. 



APPENDIX, ]\«. 1. 



XETTERS FROM HENRY XiURENS TO MAR- 
THA lAUREXS. 

Philadelphia, August 18, 1771. 

My dearest Patsy, remember my precepts, 
be dutiful, kind, and good to your aunt ; learn 
to prevent all ber wislies and commands ; 
you can do so if you please, God lias blessed 
you ^vi(b sufficient abilities. Let all your 
leading, your study, and your practice tend 
to make you a ^visc a,nd a virtuous woman, 
ratber tban a fine lady ; tbc former cbaiacter 
always comprebends tbe latter ; but tbe mod- 
ern fine lady, according to common accepta- 
tion, is too often found to be deficient botli 
in wisdom and virtue. Strive tben, my dear- 
est girl, to be virtuous, dutiful, aftable, coui't^ 
ecus, modest ; and be assured tbat you will 
become a fine lady. Set God before your 
eyes, my dear cbild ; pray to bim ; place your 
Tvbole confidence in bim : nu(\ strive to do bis 
^ill ; so sball you never be dismayed. 



•"»^ LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 

FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Westjninster, J\fay 18, 1774. 

Jjy DEAR PATSV, 

I HAVE recollected your request for a pair 
of globes ; therefore, 1 have wrote to Mr. 
Grubb to ship a pair of the best eighteen 
inch, with caps and a book of directions, and 
to add a case of neat instruments, and one 
dozen Middleton's best pencils, marked M. 
L. directed to your uncle, who will deliver 
them to you. When you are measuring (he 
sui'face of this world, remeuiber you are to 
act a part on it, and think of a plumb pud- 
dins: * and other domestic duties. 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Charleston, S.C. Feb. 29, 177C. 

MY DEAR DAUGHTER, 

WitEN I look around me, and behold in- 
creasing preparations for civil war ; every man 

* The pleasantry about the plumb pudding, had its effect. 
iMiss Laurens made a pudding before she began to make 
use of her globes, and profited by the hint, that the knowl- 
edge of house vvifery was as much a part of female educ2< 
tion, as a knoAvledge of geography. 

Editos. 



TO MARTHA LAURENS. SjT 

seeming bent nnd determined to carry Hiose 
preparations into execution to tlie last ex- 
tremity; when, therefore, I consider our es- 
tates in this count I'y as being on the very prec- 
ipice of bankruptcy, how can 1 forbear la- 
menting, what w ill become of my dear sister, 
■what will became of my dear Patsy and Pol- 
ly, in case of my brother's death. Not only 
tears, but irresistible groans accompany this 
afflicting inquiry ; after a moment's pain, I 
console myself by this reply ; ** God will take 
eare of them, that God who led your ances- 
tors through a cruel persecution, and through 
a wilderness a hundred years ago, and you 
through ten thousand dangers, will not for- 
sake your sister nor your children. Your 
brother will do well, and be made the guard- 
ian of your fatherless children after you are 
slaughtered." M;^ dear child, I could fill 
pages with accounts of causes for lamenta- 
tion ; but alas, what good fruit would sucli 
accounts produce ; I will not grieve your 
young heart by a recital of afflictions which 
are the portion of age. and which I ought to 
bear alone. Neverlheless, it is my duty to 
warn you again, as 1 did in my last letter, to 
prepare yourself for a reverse of fortune, 
prepare for the trial of earning your daily 
bread by daily labour. This, whether it be 
matter of affliction, whether it be a subject 
for grief or not, will according to present ap- 



58 LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 

pearaiices by your portion. My love for you 
constrains me to qive you timely notice. I 
have done so with an aching heart and over- 
sowing eyes. Methinks 1 hear you reply, 
" bnt, my dear papa, wiiy will you make a 
sacrifice of your fortune, and hazard the hap- 
piness of your children ; labour day and night 
to earn poverty for yourself and them." I 
answer briefly, *• It is the will of God that 
it should be so, and he gives me resolution to 
concur in and to submit to his will." Now 
act your part well my dear; love God, and 
all things will work together for your good. 
I would proceed, and advise you how to act, 
but you are in an excellent school. You learn 
your duty every day from sensible and pious 
friends. Follow their counsel and you will 
be happy. 

What money I now have in Enjrland, is de- 
voted to the service of your uncle, aunt, your 
brothers, yourself and sister 1 do not know 
that I shall ever be able to add one penny to 
that small stock. It will be wisdom, it will 
be piety and a proof of gratitude in your eld- 
er brother and you, to consume as little as 
possible, in order tliat there may be more for 
the service of your dear uncle and aunt, and 
for the little ones who cannot help them- 
selves. It would please me, it would rejoice 
me, to hear that you had cheerfully entered 
upon your new scene of life ; that you eara- 



TO MARTHA LAURENS. 



■59 



c(l as miicli evcrv day bv your needle, as 
would pay your daily expenses. 

It is melanclioly to see the abuse of many 
good houses in this town, ^vliich ai'e now made 
barracks for the country militia, Avho strip the 
paper hangings, chop wood upon parlour 
floors, and do a thousand such improper acts; 
but alas, they are still good enough for burn- 
ing. We are assured, that if the king's ships 
and troops cannot easily conquer the town, 
they will burn it; and we know if they do 
conquer it, there are men here determined to 
put the torch witli their own hands, and to 
leave them no shelter, nor any cover for those 
>vho Vtould join them. 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Charleston, S.C. JMarch 14, 1776, 

MY DEAR CHILD, 

The men of war at Georgia, have swept 
Mr. Arthur Middleton's planJation upon Ha- 
yannah river, of aLurnt sixty five negroes. 
%Vright's Savannah is within three or four 
miles of it ; probably some solitary escaping 
man may come within two or tliree days, to 
inform me of like mischiefs done there, and 
at Altamaha, by those Sabeans and Clialde- 



0(^ LETTEHS FROM HENRY LAURENS 

ans. Be it so, I will ritill say, " Blessed be 
the najiie of the Lord." 



iROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Charleston, S.C. March U, 1776. 

MY DEAR CHILD, 

The sound of war increases, and the dan- 
ger seems to he drawing nearer and nearei-o 
it ap[>ears now heyond douht, that adniitiis- 
tration are deterirsiued to ti\v the issue of an- 
other year's pejseeiiliou. We nnist expect a 
visit \ei'y soon. In (liese circumstances, ev- 
ery man iiere holds his life hy the most pre- 
carious tenure ; and our friends abroad should 
prepare themselves for learning that >ve ai*c^ 
numbered among the dead. 



SfllOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Charleston, S.C. Aug. 17, 177G. 

MV DEATl DAUGHTER, 

YouK brother will tell you a c^reat deal of 
American news, and particularly of the es- 
cape we have had from enemies who talked 
of nothing less than eating us up. The con- 
versation in the fleet >vas, that thev would 



TO IMARTHA LAUttENS. 6.1 

breaklast at Sullivan's Island ; dine at Fort 
Johnson ; and sup in Charleston. Charity, 
therefore, would incline us to adntit tlrat sir 
Peter's cominj^; against us with so formidable 
a power, as two ships of Miy guns each ; 
four of twenty-eight ; one of twenty-six ; one 
of twenty, and a bonibketcli, nright have been 
from motives of mercy. It niight have been 
thought that we should be frightened into 
submission, witliout spilling blood; but the 
battle is not always to the stiong. 

All the mischiefs which have happened, 
and all that shall still happen to the contend- 
ing parties^ are to be charged to wicked and 
foolish counsellors. 1 pray God to raise up 
Aviser and better men, who may devise means 
for effecting a friendly intercourse between 
Great Britain and these now <' United, free 
and independent states," and for promoting 
the mutual happiness of both parties. It is 
not impossible, but that the separation, lately 
announced, may produce great benefit to both. 
I am persuaded you will not give offence to 
any body, by interposing your opinions con- 
cerning these matters ; to relate to you what 
has happened, cannot be amiss, which is all 
I mean. You will in silence submit the fu- 
ture progress and final determination to the 
wise order of that superintending Being, w ho 
holds the scales of justice in his hand : who 
never fails to help those who confide in him 



62 LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 

and do right; who hiith set bounds to Iho 
bared ami of the mightiest monarch on earJh, 
as he hath to the seemingly irresistible power 
of the ocean. ** Hitherto shalt thou come, 
and here shall thy proud waves be staid." 
Your part will be to join with the sons and 
daughters of piety, and pray incessantly for 
peace. Peace to all the world, especially to 
the country in which you reside ; and that to 
which you more particularly belong; and 
you Avill lament that it is vour father's un- 
happy lot to be engaged in war, in civil war, 
God's severest scourge upon mankind. 

1 have no doubt, my dear daughter, but 
that you will take every advantage which the 
country you are in alfords for the improve- 
ment of your mind, and ^oui* address. Tfie 
latter is of more importance to a lady than is 
sometimes tlioughl ; to you in particular your 
friends should recommend it. God knows 
through what scenes you are to pass. If, 
instead of affluence, of whicli you had lately 
a prospect, and to which you have still a just 
clainu if servitude is to be your portion, «jual- 
ify yourself for an up])er place. Fear not 
Ecrvitude, encounter it if it shall be necessa- 
ry, with a spirit becoming a woman of an 
honest and a pious heart ; a woman who has 
iKrt been aifectedly nor fashionably religious. 
It is my duty, my dear, to repeat, it will be 
your wisdom to listen to this alarm. The 



TO MARTHA LAURENS. Do 

oven(s of war are uncertain, and there lias 
been much talk of forfeited estates ; poor 
deluded Iii5*;l»Ianders, who are now our pris- 
oners, were inlisted under assurances of 
getting; possession of our farms, plantations 
and town estates. Hessians and Hanoveri- 
ans, and other foreign troops have been 
bought b\ similar promises, and no doubt 
some of them will fight strong for the spoil. 
Kegro slaves and barbarous Indians have 
been taught to exclaim, ** down with the 
Americans, and their estates will be free 
plunder." Thus cruelly beset, howbeit, my 
heart neither fails nor misgives me ; I see it 
iny duty to guard against every thing which 
may happen, and to sound repeated warnings 
to those who are dearer to me. and of more 
value to the world, than my life. 

You will take care of my Polly too. I 
need not tell you to be dutiful to your uncle 
and aunt; to love and reverence them as tend- 
er parents. They may be reduced to very 
great straits. There my heart is most wrung; 
but I must forbear; the subject overpowers 
me ; God in whom 1 trust, will protect you 
all. Adieu, my dear daughter, write as oft- 
en as you can, and in some measure lessen 
the anxiety Avhich arises from the uncertain- 
ty of your being restoi'ed to your faitJifuI 
friend, your afiectionate father, 

Henry Laurens. 



APPENDIX, No. II. 



RELIGIOUS EXEKCISES. 

Thursday Dec 23, 1773. 

BEING THIS DAY FOLTRTEEV YEARS AND SEVEN WEEKS 

OLD. 

I DO this day, after full consideration, and 
serious deliberation, and after earnest prayer 
for the assistance of Divine Grace, resolve 
to surrender and devote my youth, my 
strengtii, my soul, with all I have, and all I 
am, to thoi service of that great and good 
God, who has preserved and kept me all my 
life until now, and who in infmite compassion 
has given me to see the folly of my ways, 
and by faith to lay hold on a dear Redeemer, 
and obtain peaoe to my soul through his 
precious blood. 

Martha Laurens. 

A self dedication A!^d solemn covenant 

WITH god. 

KTPi»iNiL^ a?Kl uncbangeablp .Tehovr.h \ 
Thou s:reat Creator of Heaven and eartu ■ And 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. ^^ 

adorable Lord of anc^els and men, I desire, 
with tlie deepest humiliation and abasement of 
soul, to fiill down at this time in thine awful 
presence, and earnestly pray, that thou wilt 
penetrate my very heart and soul with a suit- 
able sense of thine unuUcrable and incon- 
ceivable f^lories! Trembling may justly lay 
Iiold upon me when I, a sinful worm, pre- 
sume to lift up my head to thee, presume to 
appear in thy majesiic presefice, on such an 
occasion as tiiis. J 

Who am I, Oh Lord Clod, or what is my 
house ? What is my nature or descent, my 
character and desert, th.at I should speak of 
this, and desire that I may be one [)ar<y in a 
covenant, wh':*i'e thou, the King of kings and 
Loi'd of lords, art the other. I blush and am 
confounded, even to mention it before thee. 
But, Oh Lord, great as is thy majesty, so al- 
so is thy mercy. If thou wilt hold converse 
with any of thy creatures, thy superlatively 
exalted nature, must stoop, must stoop infin- 
itely low; and I know that in and through 
.Tesus, the Son of thy love, thou condescend- 
cst to visit sinful mortals, and to alloAV their 
approach to thee, and their covenant inter- 
course with thee. Nay, I know that the 
scheme and plan is thine own. and that thou 
hast graciously sent to propose it to us ; as none 
untaught by thee would have been able to 
form it^ or inclined to embrace it even when 



66 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



actually proposed. To thee, therefore, do I 
now come, invited by the name of thv Son. 
and trusting in his righteousness and grace ; 
laying myself at thy feet with shame and con- 
fusion of face, and smiting upon my breast, I 
say with the humble publican, ** God be 
merciful to me a sinner." I acknowledge, 
liord, I have been a great transgressor, T^Iy 
sins have reached unto Heaven, and mine in- 
iquities are lifted up unto the skies. The 
irregular propensities of uiy corrupt and de- 
generate nature have, in ten thousand aggra- 
vated instances, wrought to bring forth fruit 
unto death. And if thou shouldcst be strict 
to mark mine offences, 1 must be silent un- 
der a load of guilt, and immediately sink in- 
to destruction. But thou hast graciously 
cabled me to return unto thee, thcugli J have 
been a wandering sheep, a prodigal daughter, 
a backsliding child. Beliold, therefore, O 
Lord, I come unto thee. I come, convinced 
not only of my sin but of my folly. I come 
from my very heart ashamed of myself, and 
with sincerity and humility confess that I 
have erred exceedingly. I am confounded with 
the remembrance of these things; but be thou 
merciful to my unrighteousness, and do not re- 
member against me my sins and my transgres- 
sions. Permit me, Oh Lord ! to bring back 
mito thee those powers and facullies, wiiich 
I have ungratefully and sacrilegiously alien- 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



67 



ated f!*om th j service, aitd receive, 1 beseech 
thee, thy poor perverted creature, who is 
now convinced of the right thou hast to her, 
and desires nothing in the whole earth so 
much as io he truly thine ! Blessed God! it 
is with the utmost solemnity that I make this 
surrender of myself to thee. Hear, Oh Heav- 
ens ! and give ear, O earth ! I avouch the 
Lord to he my God. I avouch and declare 
myself this day, to be one of his covenant 
people. Hear, Oh thou God of Heaven ! and 
record it in the book of thy remembrance, 
that henceforth I am thine, entireh thine. 
I Avould not merely consecrate unto thee 
some of my powers, or some of my posses- 
sions, or give thee a certain proportion of my 
services, or all 1 i\m capable of for a limited 
time; but I would be wholly thine, and thine 
for ever. From this day do 1 solemnly re- 
nounce all tlic former lords which have had 
doininion over me ; every sin and every lust, 
and hid in thy name an eter? al delianceto the 
powers of Hell, which have most unjustly 
usurped the empire over my soul, and to all 
the corruptions which their fatal temptations 
have introduced into it. The whole frame 
of my nature, all the faculties of my mind, 
a'l the members of my body, would I present 
before thee this day, as a living sacrifice holy 
aad acceptable unto God. which I know 
be my most reasonable service. To thee 



68 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



conseerafo all my worldly possessions ; m 
thy service I desire to spend all the remainder 
of my time upon earth, and beg thou wouldst 
instruct and inlluencc me so that, whether 
my abode liere be longer or shorter, every 
year and month, day and hour, may be iiacd 
in such a manner as shall most eifectually 
promote thine honour, and subserve the 
scheme of t!iy wise and gracious providence ; 
and I earnestly pray that wliatever influence 
thou givest me over otliers, in any of the su- 
perior relations of life in which I may stand, 
or in consequence of any peculiar regard 
\vhich might be paid me, tliou wouldst give 
me strength and courage to exert myself to 
the utmost for thy glory. Resolving, not 
only that I will do it myself, but that all otli« 
ers, so far as I can rationally and properly 
influence them, shall serve the Lord. In tins 
course, Oh blessed (^od ! would I steadily 
persevere to the very end of my life, earnest- 
ly praying, that every future day of it may 
supply the deficiencies and correct the irreg- 
ularities of thetbrmer, and that I may, by di- 
vine grace, h^ enabled, not only to hold on in 
that happy tvay, but daily to grow more ac- 
tive in it. 

Nor do I only coisecrate all that lam and 
have to thy service, but I also most humbly 
resign aiid submit to thy heavenly will, my- 
self and all that I can call mine. I leave^ Oh 



ilELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



69 



Loi'd, to tlij mHniJgejnent and direction all I 
possess and all 1 wish ; and set every enjoj- 
lucnt and every interest before thee, to be 
disposed of, as tlioii pleasest. Continue, or 
I'eniove what thon hast j^ivei! nie ; bestow or 
refuse, w hat I inia.^ine I want, as thou, Lord 
shalt see good ; and though I dai-e not say I 
will never repine, yet i liope I may venture 
to say, that I will labour not only to subuiit 
but to acquiesce ; not only to bear what thou 
doest in thy most afflictive dispensations ; but 
to consent to it. and to praise thee for it, 
contentedly resolving, in all thai thou appoint- 
est, ray will into thine, and looking on myself 
as nothing, and on thee. Oh God ! as the great 
eternal ail, whose word ought to determine 
every thing, and whose governmentought to 
be the joy of the whole rational creation. 

Use me. Oh Lord, I beseech thee, as the 
instrunicnt of thy glory, and honour me so 
far. as either by doing or suffering what thou 
shalt appoint, to bring some revenue of praise 
to thee, anM of benefit to the world in which 
I dwell ; and may it please thee. Oh my Cre- 
ator ! from tliis day forward, to number me 
among thy peculiar people, that I may no 
more be a stranger and foi*eigner. but a fi'llow 
citizen with the saints, and of the household 
of God. I^eceive, Oh heavenly Father ! thy 
returp.ing prodigal. Wash me in the b^ood. 
of thy dear Son ; clothe me with his perfect 



70 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



right eoiisiiess, and sanctifj me lliroiigl jout by 
the power of thy Spirit! Destroy. 1 beseech 
thee, more did move the povver oi* sia in my 
heart! Transform me more into thine own 
image, and fashion me to the resemblance of 
Jesus, whom henceforward I wovskl acknowl- 
e({ge as my teacher, and my sacrifice, my in- 
tercessor, and my Lord ! Communicate to me, 
I beseech thee, all needful influences of thy 
purifying, thy cheering, and thy comforting 
spirit ; and lift up the light of thy counte- 
nance upon me, wliich will put the sublimest 
Jo^ and gladness into my soul. 

Dispose my aifaiss. Oh God ! in a manner 
which may be most subservient to thy glory 
and my own truest happiness ; and when I 
have done and borne thy will upon earth, call 
me from hence at what time, and in what 
manner thou pleasest ; only grant that in my 
dying moments, and the near view of eterni- 
ty, I may remember these my engagements to 
thee, and may employ my latest breath to 
thy service ; and do thou. Oh Lord, when 
thou seest the agonies of dissolving nature 
upon me, remember this covenant too, even 
though I should then be incapable of recol- 
lecting it. Look down, Oh my heavenly Fa- 
ther, with a pitying eye upontlty languishing, 
dying child ; place thine everlasting arms 
underneath me for my support ; put strength 
and confidence into my departing spirit, and 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 7 1 

Feceivc it to the embraces of thy everlasting 
love! Welcome it to the abodes of them that 
sleep in Jesus ; to wait with them that glori- 
ous (lay, when the last of thy promises to thy 
covenant people slrall be fullilledin their tri- 
un»pliant resurrection and tliat abundant en- 
trance, wliich shall be administered to them 
into that everlastiui;' kingdom, of which thoa 
hast assured them in thy covenant, and in 
the hope of which, I now lay hold of it, de- 
siring to live and to die as Avith my hand on 
that hope ! 

And when I am thus numbered among tlie 
dead, and all llie interests of mortality are 
over with me for ever, if this solemn memori- 
al sliould chance to fall into the hands of any 
surviving friends, may it be the means of 
making serious iuipressions on their mind. 
May they read it not only as my language, 
but as theii* own : and learn to fear the Lord 
my God, and witli me to put their trust un- 
der tlie shadow of his wings for time and for 
eternity; and i»\ay they also learn to adore 
Avith me that grace wliich inclines our heart 
to enter into the covenant, and condescends 
to adniit us into it, when so inclined ; ascrib- 
ing witii me and with all the children of God, 
to the I'ather, to the Son, and to the Holy 
Ghost, that glory, honour and praise, which 
is so justly due to each divine person for the 
part lie bears in this illustrious work.. ..Amen. 



^2 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

Lord T am tliinc, for ever thine. 
My soul doth cleave to thee; 
My dearest, Lord be ever mine, 
I'll have no love but thee. 

Henceforth I am not mine but God's for 
ever. 

Martha LAniENs. 

I had fallen, shamefully fallen, and broken 
the solemn eoveiiant engagements in so dread- 
ful a manner, that none but lie who is 
holy and true, who hath the key of all hearts, 
who 05)eneth and no man shutteth, could ever 
have restored me, but through the unbounded 
and astonishing measures of his grace ; I 
was awakened to a sense of my vileness and 
ingratitude ; made to feel more bitter pangs 
than ever; and after miieli struggling and 
Biany entreaties from my compassionate Re- 
deemer, I renewed mv violated vows in the 
most solemn manner, not only privately, but 
publicly, by giving up myself to him in the 
ordinance of the Holy Supper, before near 
three hundred persons at St. Werbrougirs, 
December 25, 1775. 

Solemnly again, April 7, 1776, and more 
solemnly and with more affecting circum- 
stances than ever, May 36, 1776. 



APPENDIX N^ IIL 

Bristol, June, 177Q. 
A SUPPLICATION FOR A BELOVED RELATIVE. 

My heart lias been rather bowed down to 
day, and throiigli the prevalence of unbelief, 
I have a hard struj^gle to keep from sinking. 
My dear aunt's extreme weakness makes me 
truly apprehensive on her account ; and O, 
my stubborn will, it can hardly bear the 
thonghts of letting her outstrip me and get 
to Heaven first ! O, if it should please the 
Lord to remove her hence, what a severe 
stroke will it be to my loving heart ; may he 
give me grace, if such is his good pleasure, 
to lie down, in humble submission at his 
feet ; but, O my God ! if I may plead with 
thee, and if the earnest wish of my soul is 
not contradictory to thy all wise and gra- 
cious providence, which I would not for ten 
thousand worlds desire to subvert, spare. O 
spare !ier ; direct the physicians, heneelf* and 
attendants, and in mercy hear the supplica- 
tions of her friends, of we, tiiine unworthy 



T*^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

supplicant. Bless the waters, the eliauge of 
air, or wliatever she shall be ordeied ; with- 
out thy blessing, nothing will avail ; there- 
fore by humble and diligent prayer would I 
seek it, in the name and for the merits of siiy 
dear Redeemer. In thy hands are the issues 
of life and death ; thou canst bring back again 
from the gates of the grave, canst say to tlie 
violence of disease, hitherto shalt tlion go 
and no further; and with one powerful word, 
canst recruit exhausted nature, and give new 
strength and vigour. I well know tliat thou 
art able, and as fully am I convinced that 
thou art willing to grant this petition, if it 
will be for the good of thi!ie handmaid, and 
of us her affectionate frlendj^ ; therefore, with 
the most steady faith, 1 desire to pray, and 
without wavering to come unto tbe throne of 
grace; if thoudoest for me tliis thing, I will 
adoi^e and praise thy love for ever, and for 
ever; if not in the deepest alEiction, will I 
sing unto thee, and amidst surrounding dis- 
tress will proclaim thy goodness. O njy 
Lord, be thou with luy dear friend ; place 
thine everlasting arms beneath her; give her 
strength and confulence in thee under all her 
trials ; manifest thy presence unto her in so 
sweet and delightful a manner, that she may 
fbrget#ll her pains, and lose all her sorrows 
in the enjoyment of thy love ; revive her 
drooping spirits with the cordials of thy 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES'. 75 

grace ; wean her moi-e tlian ever from the 
>voi*ld, and eng;age to tlice tlie chief and 
choicest of her affections. Teacli n»e, I pray 
ihce, the way in which I ought to go ; direct 
ine to every tender, kind, and christian ac- 
tion, and assist me now to shew my gratis ude 
for her unparalleled goodness to me for so 
many years, by doing every thing in my pow- 
er to serve and comfort her. Bless also my 
beloved uncle : sustain his mind in every time 
of trouble, and let not the sight of his dear 
sickly wife, prejudice his own health and in- 
crease his disorder; but let all his care be 
cast on thee. 



A RELIGIOUS EXERCISE AT HOME, WHEN PROVIDENTIAL- 
LY DISAPPOINTED OF AM OPPORTUNITY FOR PUBLIC 
COMMUNION. 

In the name of the Father, of the Son^ and 
of the Ifoly Ghost; O Lord, I am thine by 
every tie of nature and of grace ; thine by a 
daily surrender; and I desire at this time 
particularly to acknowledge and rejoice in 
my dependence on thee ; I have tasted such 
an abundance of comfort in thy paths, and 
have found them so peaceful and so pleasant, 
that it does not appear to me, that any thing 
in the wo'ld could tempt me to leave them; 
but instead of being high minded, O my Gotl ! 



' o RELIGIOUS EXfiRClSKS: 

I would fear and watch over injselt* with a 
godly jealousy, lest through the abundance 
of that consolation which thou hast vouch- 
safed me, I should be filled with vain eonli- 
dence, slide into carnal security, and feel 
sooner than I am aware of, a declension from 
the ways of grace. Behold, there fore, O 
Jjord ! I come as a beginner in rcJij^ion, a 
babe in Christ, humbly beseeching tiiee to 
forgive all my sins ; to pour into my heart 
the gift of the Holy Ghost; and to enable 
me to abide steadfast in my calling, till thou 
shalt deliver me from all danger, and fix me 
as an immoveable pillar in thy eternal king- 
dom. Bind me to thyself more strongly, 
liord, than ever ; ratify my vows in Heaven, 
and seal my pardon there ; this day, I hoped 
to have publicly commemorated thy love, O 
sweetest Jesus ! and professed myself the 
disciple of thy cross ; but since thy provi- 
dence hath otherwise ordained, condescend 
to accept from this, my retired chamber, the 
utmost desire of my heart to praise thee, and 
devote itself for ever to thy will. Satisfy the 
longings of my soul with that bread of God 
which is the life of all who eat it, and let 
there be such a spiritual participation of thy 
blessed body and blood, that I may dwell in 
thee, and thou in me, and that having life, I 
laay have it more abundantly. 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISESi '"^ 

Silow me that thou art an all powerful 
God, and that where thou art pleased sav- 
ingly to manifest thyself, there is Heaven, 
there is a Temple, there an Altar, there di- 
vine communion, and while thy servant in a 
humble dependence on thy promises, with a 
bended knee and with a contrite heart waits 
ui>on tlice, reveal thy mercy and thy loving 
kindness, and overflow her soul with the 
cleansing and reviving streams of thy re- 
deeming grace. Say unto me '* I am thy 
SalTation.-' Diive doubt and unbelief away, 
and banish all my fear ; make me to know 
that I am thine^ and that nothing shall ever 
separate me from thy love ; divert me from 
thy service; or finally prevent my admission 
into the realms of unchangeable felicity. 

Martha Lauiiens. 

Tei^iimouth, July 6, \777. 



C, 2 



APPENDIX, NMY. 



DEVOUT MEDITATIOKS."^' 



I. 



SELF ABASEMENT, WITH RESOLUTIONS TO WALK MORE 
WORTHILY. 

"What a poor, lukewarm, unprofitable, un- 
worthy disciple am I ! 

How cold and deficient my duty toward 
God. How mingled witli sin my charity to- 
ward men. Well may I cry out for quick- 
iiing grace and plead for sanctification. When 
shall my light shine before men, and the 
Gospel be glorified by my conduct. Oh how 
unlike I am the blessed Jesus, ray Redeemer 
and my pattern. IJ^s blessed feet were con- 
tinually carrying him about to do good, but 
alas, mine are prone to wander in the ways 
of folly. I am all self abasement, and can 
liardly bear the review of my most exempla- 

* Written in England by Miss Laurens between the six- 
teenth and nineteenth year of her age, but not particularly 
dated. The breaks or divisions with their numbers and heads 
Or titles, and the general title are added by the Editor. 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



79 



vy tla.ys. My past life lias been one continu- 
ed course of impiety, and my most lioly things 
liave been unrighteous. What shall I say, 
then, or whither shall 1 ilee for incrcy, but 
to the great atonement; to (he blood of the 
Iledeemer, by which alone I can obtain for- 
giveness for the iniquities wltich I have com- 
mitted in thought, word, and deed. 

O that from this time fopward I may be 
more zealous in the service of my God, and 
^valk more worthy the vocation wherewith I 
am called ; adorning the doctrines of God, 
my Saviour, in all things, and having my out- 
ward behaviour strongly expressive of the in- 
ward state of ujy mind ; not making the cus- 
toms and manners of a corrupt and sinful 
world the rule by which I Avalk; but trying 
myself by the New Testament, the words of 
Jesus, and tlie divinely inspired Apostles ; 
and living with a constant regard to death 
and judgment. How short is time ! How 
long is eternity ! yet, alas, how is my mind 
occupied by the things of time, how careless 
of tlie things of eternity. Now, dear Jesus, 
show thyself with power, and work a great 
deliverance for me, that in thee, I may be- 
come strong, and have fortitude to walk con- 
trary to the way of the world ; to take up my 
cross and follow thee. Amen. 



80 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

II. 

A DAY WELL SPENT. 

Blessed be God for tliis day's entcrtain- 
ment. How sweet is the society of lively 
cliristians, when we meet together and spend 
the hours, not in idle chit chat ahout dress or 
'weather or such unprofitable themes, but in 
mutual exhortation and encouragement. How 
cojiifortabiy have I passed this day. In the 
morning I was at the sanctuary, heard the 
word of salvation, and sat with pleasure un- 
der the teaching of the Gospel. When I re- 
turned, met with dear fellow members, and 
adored together the name of Jesus our Lord. 
In the afternoon I visited serious friends, and 
entered on the delightful subject, talked of 
redeeming love and christian meekness ; and 
again this evening met with acquaintance of 
the same mind, and renewed the delightful 
converse, and now at night I have been bless- 
ed in my retirement, and had great, enlarge- 
ment in prayer both alone and with my ser- 
vant. I cannol close a day so distinguished 
for spiritual mercies, without holy elevation, 
without a song of praise, nor sleep till I have 
rendered thanks. Praise the Lord, O my 
soul, and let all that is within me praise his 
holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and 
forget not all his benefits. I will praise the 
Lord while I live ^ yea, while I have any be 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



Bi 



iiig, I will sing praises to my God. My heart 
is iixed, O God ! my heart is fixed, and 
through time and eternity I shall he thus em- 
jiloyed ; singing songs ot* everlasting triumph 
and loud hallelujahs to the slain Lainh, the 
purchaser of all our hopes, and ground of our 
rejoicing. 

III. 

PREPARATION FOR AN HOUR OF TRIAL. 

I AM now going into gay, worldly, and, I 
even fear, that I shall meet with profane 
company. O that through grace I may have 
courage to show a hecoming spirit, and rcr 
memhering the honourable name which I 
bear, may I not be ashamed to act as a christ- 
ian, and to let religion tincture every word 
and action. O heavenly Father! now shed 
abroad in my heart thy Holy Spirit, and let 
nothing but holiness proceed out of my mouth. 
Enable me so to demean myself, that all may 
take knowledge of me that I have been with 
Jesus. Let the law of kindness dwell upon 
my tongue ; and teach me to discountenance 
sin in the very spirit of humility. Show me 
the eftcctual moments, the proper opportuni- 
ties for speaking in defence of the Gospel, for 
gir>rifying the name of Jesus, and i'^We me a 
licart to embrace tliem. Let not the fear of 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



singularity make me a babbler ; but if I can 
bear no innocent and useful part in conversa- 
tion, keep me silent. Let the remembrance 
of my solemn vows be ever before me, and 
enable me, this day, to stand fast in the cov- 
enant of Christ, joyfully confessing him be- 
fore men. Hear me, O God ! for thy mercy's 
sake, and have pity on a poor frail creature. 



IV. 



AN ACT OF CONTRITION WITH HOPES OF RESTORATION 
TO DIVINE FAVOUR. 

I HAD fainted unless I had believed to see 
the goodness of the Lord. My feet had well 
nigh, slipt and I was bowed down with sorrow. 
Satan has distressed me with his vile sugges- 
tions. Doubts and fears have perplexed me, 
and I have been sore oppressed by my cor- 
3"uptions ; yet blessed be my compassionate 
Ijigh priest, my merciful Saviour, who hears 
me from the very depths of wo, and thougli I 
am now in darkness, gives me hope that I 
shall still see him ; that his merey^ is not 
clean gone for ever ; but that I shall yet re- 
joice in the Lord, and go forth with strength, 
conquering and to conquer. I now sigh and 
mourn before him, because of my transgress- 
ions, which have separated between me and 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



wiy God. I cry out \viUi earnestness. How 
loii^i;, O Lord, how long. When shall I see 
thee as 1 have seen thee in the sanctuary-. 
When shall my prayer he heard, audi be per- 
mitted again to attend thee in the sanctuary. 
When wilt thou visit ine with the gracious 
visits of thy love. When shall I enjoy thy 
glories, thy gracious, thy refreshing, com- 
forting presence, as*^^ I have heretofore done 
when the candle of the Lord shone hright 
upon me, and when I lived as it were at the 
very gate of Heaven; yea, even in the bosom 
of my Jesus, which Is the very heaven of 
heavens ; where bliss unspeakable abounds. 
1 cannot forget these times, these seasons of 
inexpressible rejoicing ; and as the thirsts- 
hart panteth for the reviving strean>, so pant* 
eth my soul after thee, even after thee, the liv- 
ing God, who alone can give me comfort, and 
send me relief in this day of trial. Surely it is 
sin which has drawn this dreadful veil over my 
heart ; shut out the cheering ra} s olhis counte- 
nance; grieved the Holy Spirit, and made my 
heloved to depart from me, and leave me thus 
comfortless. His love is still the same; but 
1 have changed ; I have grown lukewarm 
and careless; I have backslidden, and Avan- 
dered in the ways of folly ; I have been 
idle, and have not improved the means of 
grace. I have been self indulgent, and al- 
lowed the flesh too much of its own wav. 



S4 heligious exercises'} 

I have not been so watclifiil as I ought, WiUi 
shame and confusion of face do I reflect on 
and confess these things ; aiui with the deep- 
est self abasement cast myself at the fool of 
the cross. I lay myself under the droppings 
of the blood of Jesus, and hardly daring to 
look up, I cry. Lord be merciful to me a sin- 
ner, a grievous sinner; my crimes are of the 
deepest dye, and my sins of more than scarlet 
hue ; I am the most ungrateful creature in 
the whole house ; yet may I not hope for mer- 
cy^ and still plead the merits of that Saviour 
I have so basely injured, I can offer no ar- 
gument but the greatness of my sin and the 
extent of his love ; I know that to be amazing 
and unbounded, and, therefore. I will not de- 
spair; but humbly trust that there is forgive- 
itess with him, and that I shall be again ad- 
mitted into communion with my dear Lord, 
and tied so fast to him as to iiave no power to 
depart. 



V. . 

SREPARATION FOR SELF EXAMINATION. 

I DESIRE now to try myself; to search mj 
spirit ; and, therefore, I devote this week, 
through God's grace, to extraordinary retire^ 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 85 

meiit, prayer, fasting, and meditation ; if so 
be that the Lord will be gracious, and assist 
me in my sell* examination and devotion, and 
revisit me with his free salvation. Without 
Christ I can do nothing ; I therefore east my- 
self at his feet, and beg him to strengthen 
and direct, and so to lead me through the 
rugged riiad of life, that I may at lengtJi ob- 
tain the fall fruition of immortal bliss, and be 
made paritaker of never ending glory ; though 
now I have my gloomy fears, and pass througli 
dangerous deeps, and dismal snares. 



YI. 



SENSATIONS OCCASIONED BY THE SIGHT OF A PICTURE 
OF THI i SAVIOUR TAKEN FROM THE CROSS. 

I HAVE seen a picture lod:-«y whicli made 
an amazini ; impression on my tnind ; the Sav- 
iour taken from the cross. Yvith my bodily 
eyes, I lool Led on the jirint ; witli the eye of 
faith, I vie wed his body nifuiglcd, rent- and 
covered wi th a gore of blood for me ; tlie 
flinty rock "was broken ; my liard heart was 
melted, and tears of penitence and love were 
ready to flo w. My thoughts were solemnized 
by the sight : and 1 hope that, upon the whole, 
it has not b( sen an unprolitable circumstance. 

H 



86 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISER. 



Various are the ways of grace by which the 
Saviour touches tlie heart ; and in his hands, 
and with liis blessing, the weakest means, 
produce astonishing good. I wish to have 
my mind in such a state as to regard every 
occurrence in a christian view, and to let 
nothing pass without some holy reflection, 
some pious meditation. May the dear Jesus 
gsiide me in the great work I have under- 
taken, and bless to my poor soul every thing 
that 1 either see or hear, or think of for his 
mercy's sake. 



VII. 

LONGING FOR DEATH, 

O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave^, 
where is thy victory ? To me ihoii. hast none. 
I often look forward with impatience to the 
hour when thou shalt set me free, and long 
to be touched by thy cold hand ; 'tis but a 
little while since, and I could rsot bear the 
thought of eternity. Now the time seems 
tedious that I am detained a prisoner here ; 
sick of the world, and all its unsatisfactory 
enjoyments, I often cry to my behoved in the 
longing of desire. Come quickly, con^e quick- 
ly, for I long to be withth;'<'. Fiovr slow I'lD- 



RELIGIOUS EXTERCI^S. ^J 

minutes roll; liow leisurely the hours move, 
which keep me tVom my God. ** I long for 
evening to undress." 1 long, earnestly long 
for the day of my dissolution, which will de- 
liver my imprisoned soul from its confine- 
ment, and leave it free from every clog of 
flesh and sense. Each change in my spiiiUial 
life increases this ardent longing. Is the 
sky clear, and does the sun shine bright ? 
have I sweet communion witli the Saviour, 
and ravishing foretastes of the unutterable, 
inconceivable bliss, purchased for me by his 
blood and merits ? How do I languish for 
the full fruition of those immortal joys, 
which are now bestowed by measure, and 
pant to behold him face to face, whom now I 
see but darkly, even in my most exalted mo- 
ments. 

Am I drooping under desertion, venting 
my complaints, because of the absence of 
him whom my soul loveth. Oh then, indeed, 
I long for that blessed time, when sin shall 
have lost its power, and no more separate 
between the Saviour and my soul : when I 
shall no more grieve the Spirit, and provoke 
him to depart; but shall have done with 
doubts and fears, with sins and sorrows, a!id 
shall be put into the full possession of heaven 
and happiness. I shall be victorious over 
hell and the grave. Having tiiese comfort- 
able assurances that I shall be happy, ami 



88 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

finding all tliini^s below hut bubbles, toys, 
and Iriiles,. I liave j^Town tired of tliis world, 
and long to be in a better, even tbe world 
above, where my forerunner reigns, and 
Avbere I hope ere long to reign with him in 
glory. 

Haste, Lord, and bring me to the day, 
When 1 shall dwell at home ; 
Corae, O licdeemer, come away, 
O Jesus, quickly come. 



p VIIL 

THE PLEASURES OF COMMUNION WITH GOD ; HUMILIA- 
TION FOR UNWORTHINESS OF SUCH A PRIVILEGE ; RES- 
OLUTIONS TO SEEK AFTER ITS CON'l INUANCE. 

Sweet are the moments spent at the foot 
of the cross, while there I sit, and sing, and 
mourn, and love. 

I would not exchange one such hour, for 
ten thousand years of worldly enjoyment. 
The utmost heights of earthly pomp ; the 
hoiiours of royalty ; the treasures of both 
the Indies; the adulation of the multitude; 
nor health, nor friends, nor any thing of ter- 
restrial bliss, though it were to last for ever, 
could make ine happy in the absence of my 
rt. God, or recompense me for the loss of his 
favour. But. Avith the light of his eountc- 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. ^ 



nance, and the comforts of his Spirit, having 
no ^here to lay my head, sick and forlorn, 
4 mean and despised, pcisecnted and defamed, 
I I conld rejoice with joy unspeakahle and lull 
I of dory. What nonsense would this seem to 
a man of the world; hut the believing soul 
^vell knows what I say. Those who have 
once tasted that the Lord is gracious, and 
found refuge from sin and Satan, in the 
' bleeding wounds of Jesus, can witness to 
I this truth, That his love su^^fses knowl- 
I edi-e, and is better than lite itself. The 
cross, the cross ! O tliis is all my glory ; the 
only irround of my rejoicing; by the death 
of the Son of God, life is purchased ior me, 
and in his prevailing name, I Imve free ac- 
cess to tlie tlirone of grace. I can go and 
snread before the Father my wants, and my 
complaints; tell him of all my distresses, 
Tnv conflicts, my trials, and my weakness ; 
and from the fulness of his Son derive a 
sufficiencv of strength for the day of tempta- 
tion. I can plead lii^ own word, his precious 
promises, and rest secure upon them. I can 
ask the influences of his grace, beg the con- 
solations of the Holy Ghost, and show him 
iiiv need of comfort. O, I love to sit at the 
feet of Jesus, till my heart melts, and til my 
» eyes run down with tears. I love to look on 
li'im till they grow dim to outward oojects, 
and Vill I am wholly taken up with the things 

14 O 



♦ 



ao 

RELIGIOUS EXERCISES; 



Of faith. Sometimes I am so lost in the 
hci^hU and breadth, and length, and depth 
ot love immeasniable, that I seem dead to 
the world, and have no thou.^ht of any thinp; 
nit I forget the things of time, and my 
spirit solaces itself in the foretastes of cte/- 
imi joys; hilt alas, these seasons last not 

Too soon my joys decav. 
Too soon my si as arise^ 

Too soon I find myself groveling midst 
the clods of earth, and the wheels of love 
turnmg heavily. This makes the chains of 
sense hateful to mc ; and nothing gives me 
pleasure that does not increase my growth 
«n grace. I hate all company, all amuse- 
ments, all business that diverts my mind 
trom spiritual things, and draws it from 

I delight in those means which I have 
lound most benefieiaK and wish to observe 
every rule which has a good effect upon my 
spirit. My Saviour has often been pleased 
to manifest liimself in my hours of prayer 
and my soul [las been caught up to celestial 
heights, even to the throne of God, while I 
Avas m the lowest posture of reverence before 
hiin. He has often met me in my retire- 
ments, and made solitude so delightful to 
mQ, that I love to remain whole days shut 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



9i 



?)ut from tlie world. He has graciously re- 
freslied me at his lahle, and peculiaily in my 
after retirement, made himself known to my 
enraptured soul in such a manner as words 
cannot describe or tongue declare, for it is 
inexpressible, and only to be felt.'^ Be as- 

* *' When by often betaking ourselves to God we be- 
eomc acquainted with him ; v hen bv frequent pmyer, med- 
itation, and other j)ractices of devotion, we " follow hard 
after iiim," and attend close upon him. lie is accustomed 
to break i?i vjfon the soul ivith Jloshes of joij ; to -ivavm it 
with beams cf cow fort ; to breathe into it the inspirations of 
heaven ; to speak peace to the hearty and shed through it 
a thousand consolations ; when on our knees before hiin, we 
feel, our hearts dissolving with love, mid f owing' out to his 
bosom, we find the rich tide of affection soon rolling back 
from God to our souls, and bringing with it pleasures 
widcli are unutterable. Do any of yoti, my brethren, re- 
!:;ard these -representations as visions of fancy, havi^a^ no 
existence in real life, or as fliglits of enthusiasm ? BtJieve 
me, you deceive your own souls ; believe me, mantf thou- 
iands, followers sf the JjCimb, have found in this intercourse 
with their Uod, pleasiires incomparablij greater than tliosc 
J have described. I appeal to experience for a confirmation 
f)f their reality. Not to the experience of those cold foima! 
ju-ofessors, who abound in our churches ; who, m hilst they 
attend to the exterior of religion, neglect to cultivate its 
inward power ; who are desirous of a{)pcaring iioly, and 
careless of being so ; who perform with assiduity those du- 
ties in the discharge of which the eyes of men ai-e fixed 
upon them, but who neglect those exercises which exclude 
all other w itnesses than (tod, and their own conscietices. 
To the experience of these men we do not appeal ; for they 
are strangers to communion with God ; alas ! they are 
strungers to vital religion. But we appeal tt) those warm 
hearted believers, who daily are cementing this heavenltj 
fcuniliariti/y by renewing their intercourse with God ; who 
often talk with him in the secret of their closet ; and hourly 
direct their thoughts to their Father and their Friend. 
Speak and declare that God deals familiarly -ioith men ; 



92 RELIoioUS EXERCISES, 

tonished and wonder, O my soul, that thou, 
the vilest creature in (^e workl, the very 
chief of sinners, and a heJl deserving wretch, 
should ever be able to enjoy such a day, or 
feel tlie ti^nsports that thou hast done. 
Blush tbat after tliis tiiou hast ever grown 
cold, lukewarm, and have even now so much 
reason to mourn, because of unbelief and 
hardness of IsearL 

Be ashamed of thy careless and unchrist- 
ian life, and humble thyself in the presence 
of the Lord because of thy transgression. 
Call upon every thing within thee, to exert 
itself in tbe service of thy Kcileemer; walk 
more by faith and less by sight ; divest thy- 
self of all unnecessary concerns ; unlade thy- 

dratv fnr a momrnt that veil tvith -ti'hich yonr modesty has 
covered the interior of your soid, and show its that your 
hearts have hee7i inundated ivith pleasures -which the ivorld 
can never bestoiv, -iuhich the men of the xvorld can never 
cnnceive^ 

The preceding extracts, from tlie fifth sermon in the 
volume Ifitciy i)ublishe(l by the Uev Dr. Kollock, are added 
by the editor. Tlie cnll there mnde by the e!oi][aent preach- 
er on wHrm hearted believers to produce their ext)erience, 
as evidence in support of Ids doctrine, is here fully answer- 
ed. They exactly tally ; yet it is no packed testimony. It 
was entered on secret record at the distance of three thou- 
sand miles, and is now providentially bronglit to light, 
when the writer is entirely disinterested in tlie applause or 
censure of mortals, and was written by her, when the rev. 
erend author, who makes the appeal, was either unborn or 
not more than one year old ; and to him it was and at this 
Tnoment is wholly unknown. Vital religion is the same in 
every clime and iige^ and among all denominations of 
(Irristians, Ed iron. 



RELIGIOUS EXEneiSES. ^-"^ 



self of vanity, and worltlly mindt dncss ; be 
more frequent and earnest in prayer, and 
live, as it were, eonrinually before the cross; 
so slialt thou feel thyself renewed in strength, 
and giving to the Saviour an undivided and 
sincere lieart ; he will not only frequently 
visit, but even take up his abode with thee, 
confirming thy love, increasing thylaith, and 
carrying thee from one degree of strength to 
another, till thou art made perfect in himi 



IX. 

DISGUST AT FRIVOLOUS CONVERSATIGlv. 

How disgusting these vain visits. to my sin 
sick soul. While they examine and talk of 
laces, dresses, ornaments, and finery, I w^sli 
to converse witli the hillocks of mortality, 
to know the full meaning of that sentence, 
«* 'Tis the body of the curse," and remember 
that we should not have needed clothes if sin 
had not deformed us, and made covermg 
necessarv for the hiding of our shame. Dear 
Jesus, faithful friend, when they are teiimg 
of Hie agreeableness of this party, that set, 
and the other amusements, I long to get 
away from among them, to sit at thy feet, 
to hear thy precious voice, and have com- 



^^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



munion Avilh thee. They know not the im- 
port of these words, *• I in them and thou in 
me, that they may be made peifeet in one.'* 
Tliey know not the pleasures of the way, or 
the sweetness of thy love, hut fondly dream 
of bliss in fleetin.^ enjoyments. They pur- 
sue a shadow and grasp at a phantom. JSTo. 
dear Christ, nothing below thyself can satisfy 
an immortal soul, or give it content. There 
can be no comfort but in thy favour; the 
whole circle of worldly delights, will prove 
themselves in the end, nought save vanitv: 
and sooner or later never fail to give their 
followers, vexation of spirit. 

No, 'tis in vain to seek for bliss. 
For bliss can ne'er be found. 
Till we arrive whei-e Jesus is. 
And tread on grace's ground. 



X. 



DELIGHT IN THB COMPANY OF THE PIOUS, AND IN THE 
EXPECTATION OF HEAVENLY HAPPINESS ; LOVE TO JE- 
SUS, AND LONGING TO BE WITH HIM IN HEAVEN. 

O MY Cod ! minutes come quickly, but 
inereies were more swift and quick than they. 
I looked for sorrow, and behold joy ; for vain 
conversation, and behold heavenly society ; 
for trifling and levity, and behold, reproof' 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



exhortation, and edification. Thus it is, that 
thou graciously dealest with me, hearing the 
prayers of thine unworthy creature, and 
blessing her, when she least expects it. O 
how I love the company of pious souls, and 
to join in praising the name of Jesus; hut if 
this be delightful, these imperfect services 
so pleasant, what must it be to meet v,itli 
the blessed society above, where, without 
sin, and free from interruption and clog, 
Avithout fetters, and without cloy, I shall join 
with angels, and archangels, and with all 
the company of heaven. I shall laud, and 
magnify his glorious name ; evernmre prais- 
ing thee, and saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord 
God of hosts, the whole heaven is full of thy 
glory ; glory be to thee O Lord. How charm- 
ing to tell to listening seraphs^ the wonders 
of redeeming love ; and 

With transpoi-ting joys I'eccniut, 
The labours ot" my i'ceL ; 

to rehearse my trial- , conflicts, and temptav 
tions, and in harnionious strains, 

T' ascribe my viet'ry to tlie Lamb, 
My coiiquesu to his death. 

Faith looks forward with delight to this hap- 
py period, and my soul stretches her wings, 
and wishes to be gone. Wo is me, that I 
' am constrained to dwell in Mesech, and have 



^^ TIELIGTOUS EXERCISES. 

Biy liabitation in ihe tents of* Kedar. O thai 
I had wings, like a dove, for then would I 
fiee to the haven of eternal rest, to the bo- 
som of my God. 

He is aitogetlier lovely, the chief of ten 
thousand, fairer than the fairest, and the 
only fair. 

The fondness of the most enraptured lover, 
the tenderness of tlie dearest friend, is per- 
fect hatred coiispared with the love of Jesus ; 
all the ideas, that we can form of things 
sweet, amiable, and engaging, are mere de- 
formity to tiie beauties of Emanuel.* 

* " Should there beany true christians, whose own cold, 
feelings will not suffer them to approve of those rapturous- 
joys, and ecstatic pleasures, which some persons are, ioi 
this work, said to experience; jet i hope, that there are- 
none, or at least, very few, who do not desire to enjoy such- 
divine favonr, an«i press after them as their privilege. That 
christian lius but a slender acquaintance witii Emanuel-^ 
who does not long to know more of his glory, and enjoy, 
rriore of his love. There are hundi'eds of religious per- 
sons, whose conduct in all secular affairs evinces them to 
be ])Ossessed of sound undeistanding ; and with respect to 
religious things, they soleniidy declare that at times, they 
have such views of tlieir interest in the favour of God, and 
such secret communion with the Father and his son Jesus 
Christ, as to rejoice therein, with joy unspeakable, and full 
of glury. Why should such persons be censured by their 
bi'ethren, as enthusiasts ? Ign.orant and irreligious people 
Will, no doubt, so describe them, and affirm that they are 
righteous overmuch ; but far be it from professors to adopU* 
such sentiments. On the contrary, let such cool religionists* 
be rather animated by these ir.stunces of holy fervour, tcv 
seek for the same pleasures, and pray that they riiay l)e 
filled with all the fulness oC Gv,(\." 

See preface to Shrubsoie's Christian Memoirs, 'i his 
aote is added hv tlie editor. 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



97 



His winning; charms aiu? sulficicnl to cap- 
tivate the most unfceiinj^; breast, and warm 
the coldest heart. Was ever adamant so Laid 
as mine, or Hint so stubborn ? w as ever ice so 
cold, or affections so frt^zen ? yet tise Heav- 
enly Bridegroom overcomes, llis persuasive 
energ-y is irresistible, and the marks of love 
graven in his hands and feet, speak to my in- 
most soul. Jesus, my beloved, thy name 
gives joy to my desponding heart, and cheers 
my drooping spirits ; Jesus ! harmonious 
sound, life giving word, agahi and again wiH 
I repeat it with fresh delights,, and exuU in 
my knowledge of this name. Let ICeaven 
and earth re-echo with the sweet name of Je- 
Hus ; and let tiie htfsts on Iiigh, and saints be- 
low, join hearts and tongues, to celebrate ii. 
Teach me, ye tuning serapl.s, ye cherul)im, ye 
anffcls near the tlirone, ye martvi-s, ^e emi- 
nently pious, who, having escaped the pollu- 
tions of the world, and through the blood of 
the Lamb, .gained the conquest, now cast 
your crowns, adoiing at his feet ; teach ine, 

teach me, some of your sweet hymns, tliat 

1 may bear my humble part in this immortal 
song. Happy souls, how I envy you ; you 
have escaped, are free from sin and interrup- 
tion ; you behold him face to face, and are 
strengthened to bear the full blaze of his glo- 
ry ; you have done mourning, and wetting your 
couch with tears j and now triumpU in th& 



^^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES, 

s 

bliss of Sioii. Doubts and fears are over, 
antl you are safely landed on tlie wished for 
shore; you liave now no intervals of dulncss 
and depression ; no need of sleep or food ; no 
interruption from the ilesh ; but serve your 
God, without hindrance, and in the perfection 
of holiness; you have no tenspting devil, no 
deceitful heart, no alluring world ; your war- 
fare is finished, your race is run, and you 
have found rest for your weary feet. 

Higlily favoured of the Lord, I long to 
join you ; I long to take my place at your 
feet, and to leave this vale of teaj's, this 
thorny wilderness. Come quickly, dear Sav- 
iour, quickly come, and hear me to thy 
blest abode. Earth is a tiresome place ; I 
am quite sick of it, and long to be with thee ; 
yet would I not repine^ or be impatient ; but 
resignedly do thy work, and wait thy will. 
Increase my trials, so thou increase my fiiith, 
and welcome crosses, so thou sanctify them. 
Yet, it is but little that I can do for thee ; 
aiul my utmost services, are not worth the 
iiau^.e ; therefore, I plead, that thou wouldst 
hasten thy coming, and deliver me from my 
bondage ; jet a few more weary steps, and 
I hope my feet shall rest upon the everlast- 
ing hills ; and when the awful, though wish- 
ed for moment arrives, be thou then with 
me. Put thine everlasting arms underneath 
me, for my support y give strength and con- 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



9.9 



lidcHce to my departing spirit; let tlie re- 
eollectioii of the firm covenant between us, 
then sustain me, and in mercy gild the dark 
valley, and brigliten the gloomy shadow; 
enable me, a poor, weak, undeserving sinner, 
to do honour to religion, in that last finish- 
ing scene, and to glorify thee, dear Lord, 
with my expiring breath. 

Then I shall with thee remain. 
Partner of thine endless reign ; 
Then thy face, unclouded see. 
Find my Heaven of Heavens in thee. 

AMEN, HALLELUJAH. 



XI. 



CONTRITION FOR LEVITY, TRIFLING, &C. 

May 28, and 29- 

Under dreadful pressure from the com- 
mission of two flagrant crimes. 

My anguish, distress, and misery, are 
gr< ater than I can cx|)ress ; and no ideas can 
\w. adequate to what 1 feel, for the shocking 
levity, trilling, idleness, and even deceit of 
the foregoing day; dear Lord, pity a contrite 
soul, and heal my broken bon^s. Compas- 
sionate Redeemer, forgive my guilt, and com- 
fort my poor wounded spirit. 



00 



IIELIGIOUS EXERCISERS. 



O wliat a wretched sinner I am ; what an 
lib iser of ijiercj. Good Lor;d, 1 am ready to 
iaint. Pity, pity, I beseecli thee. 



XII. 



TEMPTATION RESISTED AND TURNED TO ADVANTAGE. 

What a dreadful trial this is. I have had 
a hard eoniiict today. I have sinned, I 
have grievously sinned, and Satan takes the 
advantage of my distress, and tempts me not 
to pray, and cry for mercy, because, says he, 
you are too bad. and you have abused mercy 
too much, ever to be forgiven. But, O my 
Jesus, I have tasted too much of thy marvel- 
lous sweetness, to forget it, and leave thee so 
easily. No, I cannot do it. I lay myself at 
thy feet; and if I die, I am resolved it shall 
be there, even before the cross. I know that 
I deserve everlasting damnation ; but this 
thought, though dreadful, does not pierce 
me so deeply, as my vile ingratitude to my 
soul's best friend. I start at the view of my- 
self. Is it possible ? Three days ago, and I 
thought I could have gone with thee to prison, 
and to deatli. Three days ago, and I had 
an answer for every doubt, for every enemy; 
my sky was clear, and my cup run over Avith 
Joy ; now every thing oversets me, and I He 



IIELIGIOUS EXERCISES, 



10! 



ju darkness, and gloomy niglif. My trem- 
bling heart hardly dai'es speak to its injured 
Lord ; and Satan strives to discourage it 
more, and more, and even to make it despair; 
hut blessed he God, yes, I will bless my God, 
for it is he that does it. The devil has not 
been able to keep me from a throne of grace, 
^vith all his subtlety ; and I have been kneel- 
ing there ^vith shame and confusion of face. 
I liave not been able to say one word, bnt on* 
]y show my Jesus a wounded, broken, con- 
trite spirit. 

Dearest Lord, despise not my polluted 
sacrifice, but give some look of kind compas- 
sion to a mourning soul. I am all lilth, and 
guilt, and nncleanness. My soul is covered 
with leprosy; but I know that if thou wilt, 
thou canst make ivie clean, and restore me to 
peace and comfort. 

Let inc humbly plead with my Lord, and 
earnestly implore his pity. I am a helfdess, 
imdone sinner, tlrat, without a glance from 
thee, or a cheering ray, must sink into de- 
spondency. 

Dear, kind shepherd, for thine own name, 
and for thine honours sake, recal a wander- 
ing sheep, and bring me, to feed again in the 
sweet pastures of thy love. O magnify thy 
grace in me, a poor silly creature; and be 
thou glorified by my consolation. I tliank 
and adore thee, sweet Jesus, for any rills of 

12 



102 



HELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



comfort, any glimpse of vclief, to my dis- 
tressed mirul. Show me again the reviving 
light of thy countenance ; let me once more 
enjoy sweet communion with thee, and my 
trembling soul iind refuge in thy bleeding 
wounds. Help me to walk more circum- 
spectly, and never to spend another day in so 
foolish, vain, and worldly a manner, seeing 
its dreadful consequences are the wounding 
of my own soul ; offending my dear Lord ; 
grieving the Holy Spirit and illling me full of 
sorrow, darkness, and indevotion. O, give 
me strength from above, to walk more close- 
ly with my God. 



XIII. 



eOlStFORT IN RESIGNATION, 



My soul, be of good courage, wait on the 
Lord» and lie sliall strengtlicn thy heart ; let 
not (he howling of the savage beasts, Avhich 
rove about this forest, affright thee, nor the 
pricking of the thorns, which grow thick 
throughout the way, deter thee from thy 
duty; thou shaltuot liaveone more trial than 
is necessary, nor shall the cross ever be 
heavier than thou canst bear. 

Jesus will support me through all the 
dreary wilderiiiess ^ nor ever leave his pi"!- 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 103 

grim coniforne(?s, unless for a season, if need 
be, that my faith and patience, beini^ tried, 
may be found not waniini^; and that being 
piiriiied, as with fire, I may be counted 
worthy to receive the end of my faith, even 
the salvation of my soul. Sometimes it is 
dark enou,u^h within, and the thick clouds of 
imbelief, almost intercept my sight ; but I 
call to mind, my past experiences, and re- 
member tlic old loving kindnesses of my 
Lord. I think on Christ's unbounded love, 
and rest with sweet delight upon the gracious 
promises. I often enjoy inexpressible rap- 
ture, in the contradiction of my own will, and 
in the midst of distress, am enabled to sing 
songs of triumph. 



XIV. 

COMMUNION WITH GOD UNDER DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

A LITTLE time ago, I met with a consider- 
able disappointment, and in a matter too, 
that lay much upon my heart ; but I shall 
never forget the comfort 1 received. I shut 
myself out from the world, and in bitterness 
of spirit, fell low before my Saviour. I pour- 
ed forth floods of tears before him. I showed 
him my rebellious heart, ready to repine, be- 
cause things went not as I would have Ihero. 



IC'i llELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

My dear Master gave me a. look of kind 
eompassioo, and with ineffable sweetness 
smiled graciously upon me. Nature was 
subdued; Grace triumphant. I left him not, 
till my whole soul was melted to resij^na- 
tion ; and I went forth from my chamlier, 
cheerful and easy, without a single Avish, but 
in subserviency to the divine direction, and 
desiring nothing but that God's will may be 
done in me, and by me. and upon me. I find 
such happiness in this state of mind, that it 
is my utmost ambition to attain an entire 
submission to the decrees of Providence, so 
that I may receive, what to my short sight- 
edness appears evil, wi(h the same thankful- 
ness, as the most desirable things in tlic 
world ; and even accounting it all joy, that I 
am thought worthy to suffer, knowing that 
nothing happens by chance, and every dis- 
pensation, if my own stubbornness prevent it ^ 
not, will work for my eternal welfare, and 
every cross be made a step to glory. 



'Tis my happiness Lelow, 
Not to live without the Cross; 
But the Saviour's love to know. 
Sanctifying every loss- 
Trials make the promise s\veet. 
Trials give new lite to prayer. 
Trials lay me at his fe» t, 
Lay me low, and keep ine there* 



.IvELlGIOUS EXERCISES^ * 



XV. 



W5 



FANTING AFTER GOD, AND DELIGHT IN HIM, AS THE 
SUPREME GOOD. 

As the reviving stream to tlie thirsty 
hart ; as the soft nocturnal dews to the 
pnrched herbage ; and as jilenteous showers, 
after long drought in summer ; so dear foun- 
tain head of refreshment, and infinitely more, 
are the emanations of thy love and the water- 
ings of thy grace, to my thirsty, dry, and 
parched soul ; thou art my retreat from the 
burning sun, and the shelter of my defence- 
less head. 

To thy bosom do 1 flee for refuge, from 
the hellish darts of Satan ; and hide myself 
In thee, from all my ghostly enemies. 

AVhile I abide with thee, I am secure, nor 
fear to be molested by the most potent foe j 
but, alas ! fool that I am, my unsteady feet 
are ever apt to stray, and wander in tempta- 
tion's flowery paths. 

Througli the prevalence of temptation. 1 
leave my Lord, enter into the world, defile 
my robes, fill myself with mourning, and 
drink deep of the bUter cup of shame a^^d re- 
morse ; it is astonishing to u^yself. thai after 
receiving; from thee tlie bread of life, a^ul 
drink'.ng ^ar;<e drau;:;hts of liviruv vvater, I 
f:hould ever forsake thy bosom, and le^ve my 



.06 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



hiding place. Lord, I love trials, I love 
crosses, for tliey send me near to thee. 
Passing througli the lire and water, through 
torrents of distress, and floods of tribulation, 
are indeed my sweetest moments, for then I 
forget the world, and derive my happiness 
and comfort from thyself alone, my un- 
changeable and never failing friend. In the 
day of affliction, thou dost cheer my fainting 
soul, and revive my drooping spirits. When I 
am ready to sink under tlie load of grief, and 
enveloped with deep gloom, my heart and my 
strength are ready to fail, he supports me in 
the dark hour, and darting througli the thick- 
est clouds, with the sunlicams of his love, 
calms my troubled mind ; gives light and 
joy, peace and consolation, which the world 
knows nothing of, and which I would not 
part w ith for tlirones of royalty, and sceptres 
of dominion. 

Mistress of the universe, without Christ, 
I should be miserable; Avith him, no state 
can be adverse ; for the soul tliat is made 
one with Jesus, and lives in daily commu- 
nion with him, has health, friendship, honour, 
"wealth, pleasure, and satisfaction, more and 
greater tlian the warmest imagination can 
conceive, or the most fluent tongue describe. 

Weak of body, sick in soul, 
Dcprestat heart, and faint Avith fears;. 
His dear presence make nie wholCj 
And with sweet comfort cheers: 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISER. i^^ 

Thou of love, the fountain art. 
Freely let me take of thee. 
Spring thoH up withip my heartj 
Kise to all eternity. 



XVL 



OREAD OF INABILITY TO RESIST TEMPTATION •, TRUST 
IN GOD, AND SUPPLICATION FOR STRENGTH IN Tl:ME; 
OF NEED. 

I AM often iiiucli distressed by fears of 
apostasy. This dread upon my mind keeps 
me very low, and 1 often weep at the very 
apprehension of it. I cry day and niglit to 
my God, and importunately wrestle with 
Ilim for preservini^ grace. 1 expect, unless 
there be some wonderful intervention of di- 
vine grace, soon to meet with sore tempta- 
tions. The fear of reproach, and love oi* 
creatures, so easily beset me, that I am sure 
iiotliinj^ less tlian power from on high, can 
enable me to stand ; my situation at present, 
is peculiarly happy ; I am in a dear family 5 
my uncle and aunt are patterns of piety, and 
every one in the house, to all outward ap- 
pearance, is a real christian. Here I am 
encouraged in devotion, and my pious resolu- 
tions meet M'ith applause ,* but, O what 
should I do, if I were in an irreligious, or 
even lukewarm society ; how could I beafr 



ioa 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES- 



to be langlied at for iiij piTciyeness, imd lo 
be ridiculed for my strictness (o hours of pray- 
ers ; how would my poor hcurt stand it, if I 
were surreunded wiilj gay company, and from 
morning to night, heard nothing but worldly 
conversation* Do I not find, whenever I go 
out, the world too apt to engross my thoughts, 
and steal on my affections ? What sJiould I 
do, if my nearest eomiexious and dearest rela- 
tives Vt ere gay and fashionable, and did not 
live up to the strictest doctrines of the cross ? 
If left to myself i must undoubtedly fall ; and 
unless Christ lias pity on me, I must infalli- 
bly backslide. Dear, tender hearted Shep- 
herd, hear the groanings of a trembling 
soul; and let not my importunity offend thee, 
my immortal interest is at stake, and nothing 
but thy strength can be sufficient to redeem 
it from destruction. I rest and depend whol- 
ly upon thee, for I know that of myself I 
shall be e\cr prone to wander. 

Dear Jesus I hear, in pity hear me ; after 
such solemn covenanting ; such awful trans- 
actions; sueb rapturous endearments, let not 
earth or hell, iempt me to violate my vows, 
nor the united force of men and devils, have 
power to break the bonds, whicli tie me to 
thee. O let me never perjure myself, never 
deny or forsake my Lord, for with whom else 
can I find ecjual happiness, or what shall 
recompense me for the loss of thy favour. 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. J 09 

O, my Redeemer ! I am Avilling to take up 
llic cross; to go with tliee to prison and to 
death ; to bear slianie, reproach, contumely, 
loss of fortune, reputation, and even life it- 
self, for thy sake, hut not able to do the least 
of them. It is thou only, Avho hast worked 
in me the will, that must give me the power. 
Send down upon me thy heavenly benedic- 
tion; strengthen me from above. O let me 
hear thy gracious voice declaring, that 
strength shall be equal to the day ; then will 
I lejoice, and leaning on thine all-sufficient 
grace, go forth conquering, and to conquer; 
let thine arm be n^y support, and grace my 
shield. Thy spirit my guide and director, 
and for thy mercy's sake, ])erfect thine own 
Avork in the soul of thy willing servant. 



xvir. 

Vi\4\ITY OF THE WORLD, AND JOY IN THE SAVIOUR. 

Let not, Lord, my M-anderivg mind, 
Follo-w after flcetin}? toys ; 
Since in tliCL- alosie 1 find. 
Solid an(! subslantial joys ; 
Joys, lliat never overj)ast, 
Through eternity shall last. 

Lord, how happy is the heart. 
Alter thee, while it aspires, 
'i'rue arid faithful, as thou art, 
Thou shalt answer its desires ; 
It shall see the glorious scene, 
Of thine everlasting reign. 
K 



KIO RELir,IOUS EXERCISES. 

How corafortable is it, thus to enjoy nsj 
Saviour ; how much more satisfactory, and 
siibstaiitial is this bliss, than that to be gain- 
ed by a fevf minutes idle conversation, or 
those trifling employments, \\liich have late- 
ly occupied my mind. Lord, show me more 
of the vanity of the world, and my great need 
ot thee. 



XYIIT. 

CONTRITION FOR MISPENT TIIME, AND RESOLUTIONS TO 
IMPROVE IT IN FUTURE. 

Septeraber 5. 

Time is short ; how seasonable then is tlie 
advice of the apostle : " Use the world as not 
abusing it, for the fashion of this world pass- 
eth away." 

When I look back, and consider how often, 
and how long, I abused the good gifts of God; 
not receiving thom with thankfulness, but em- 
ploying them solely foi' the gratiiication of 
my sinful and corrupt desires, I am filled with 
the deepest horror aud mourn, with heartfelt 
grief, ray vile ingratitude. 

When* I review the hours and days, the 
inonths and years, of sin and folly, which 
have passed over my guilty head, and reflect 
on the amazing, unparalleled iniquities which 



HELtGIOUS EXERCISES. ^ ^^ 

i liave conimiUed ; rccolloct the gracious op- 
poi'Uinilies, which I have mirimproyed ; the 
nuiiibeiless sermons and conversations of pi- 
ous tVicnds, and godly ministcis, which I have 
slighted ; the strivings of the blessed spirit, 
which I have resisted, and with all the con- 
tinuance of distinguished mercies on so unde- 
serving a wretch, my very knees smite to- 
gether, with trembling and confusion, and I 
grow pale with sorrow and regret. It is as- 
tonishing to myself, that I have been so long 
spared ; that I have yet a day of grace ; and 
I cannot but behold myself as a miracle of 
mercy. 

I shudder at the very thoughts of what 
Avould have become of me, if God had stopt 
iTic in my career, and cut short my days, as 
I justly merited, but a year, or a year and a 
half ago. I was then in tJie very height of 
folly, in open rebellion against ihe majesty 
of Heaven, and running headlong to destruc- 
tion. I had backslidden, fori::otten mv first 
love, and was ten times worse than ever I had 
been in my life. Adored be the divine love, 
which had better things in store for me, and 
which by amazing and powerful, though in 
general secret and invisible means, called me 
to himself again, and has gone on. fulfilling 
his own work in my heart till now. through 
j^race I can rejoice in> and long for that hour, 
which then I dreaded^ even to think upon. 



^ ^ 2 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

Oh that I could now redeem the time : 
since it is iioT^ossible to recal the precious 
rnoments which ai'c gone, bearing on their 
wings nothing but llie black account of my 
transgressions ; may I endeavour to retrieve 
my past misconduct, by my future vigilance. 
Oh ! that I could spend one day well ; one 
day wisely and without waste of time. O ! 
how much of this invaluable and precious 
blessing is spent ; not merely on things un- 
necessary, but on things hurtful, and which 
fetter my feet, and hinder me in my progress. 

What a great portion of my time, is devot- 
ed to sleep and meals; to outward adornings; 
to provision for the flesh ; to vain visits ; to 
unprofitable conversation ; to idle curiosity ; 
and ten thousand other trifles, which too oft- 
en occupy the greater part of the day. 

"What an important work have I to do, and 
how little tinte to do it in ? O that I may 
make my calling and election sure. I do not 
Ivnow, but my journey may be nearly finish- 
ed, and ia a few weeks, perhaps a few hours, 
the awful summons may arrive, and warn me 
to quiit this tenement of clay, and to appear 
"before the great judge of quick and dead. O 
that I may be found ready, sincerely penitent, 
and humbly contrite ; and when the solemn 
register of all my secret, as well as outward 
sins, is opened, may they be found'crossed h\ 
his precious death and merits. 



RRLIGIOUS EXERCISES. 



11, 



Awake, awake, O iny Iethari»;ic soul ! sleep 
no longer on the brink of a precipice. Con- 
tent not thyself, with liaving done something, 
but press forward continually, with thy ut- 
most power. Make the most of the short 
span allotted. tJiee, and never rest satisfied 
with any thing short of perfection. Yet a 
little while, and that cry shall sound in thine 
ears ; " Behold the bridegroom cometh ;*' 
watcij, tliat thou mayest be ready to meet 
bim, to meet him with joy, and to be receiv- 
ed by liim into that everlasting kingdom, pre- 
pared for thee, by his love, before the foun- 
dation of Hie world. 

My God and my strength, thou wilt short- 
ly come with power and great glory, to judge 
the world, and to separate the sheep from the 
goats ; make me diligent, and prepare me for 
thy coming ; and grant that I may be one of 
those, who will sit on thy right hand, and 
dwell for ever with thee, in the mansions of 
unfading bliss and evergrowing pleasure. 



XIX. 

ON THE LORD'S DAY. THANKSGIVING FOR RESTORED 
HEALTH, AND RENEWED ACT OF SELF DEDICATION TO 
GOD . WITH PRAYER TO BE ENABLED TO ACT WORTHY 
OF THE HONOURABLE NAME OF A CHRISTIAN. 

Sunduif. 

This is the day which the Lord has made; 
I will rejoice and be glad in it. The sabbath 

K 2 



114 HELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

and service of tlic Lord, shall be the joy and 
solace of my soul. 

I will pay my vows now in (he sight of all 
thy people, and enter into thy courts with 
thanksgiving and praise, for the wonderful 
mercies, vouchsafed me throughout my life ; 
particularly for thy late njereies of comfort 
on a bed of sickness, restoration from the 
brink of the grave,* and an agreeable and 
safe journey. Lord, liere I am. Receive 
this renewed oblation of myself to thee ; not 
indeed, for the merit of it, but for the sake 
and worthiness of my dear Redeemer. 

Help me this day, and all the days of my 
life, to walk worthy the honourable name I 
bear ; as one signed with the sign of the 
cross, and may I never be ashamed of the 
faith of Clirist crucified; but as a good sold- 
ier and servimt of the Lord Jesus, figlit man- 
fully under this banner against the world, 
the flesh, and the devil. Compassionate 
High Priest, give me, I beseech thee, con- 
tinual supplies of strength from thine own 
imbounded fulness ; and in thy outer court 
this day, let me be greatly refreshed and 

* The date oF these meditations is fixed by tliis cii-enra- 
sttmce. It is known in the domestic circle, tliat Miss Lau- 
rens was in serious danger oF dying in England, From the 
measles, soon aFter she leFt Charleston, in the IGth. year oF 
her age ; and, hefore she went to France, in her 19th. year. 
The original is without date as to tlie year. 

Editor. 



RELIGIOUS EXEttCISES. 



115 



sti'engtliciied to go on my way, O let this 
sabbath be to lae an emblem of tlie eternal 
sabbatism, Avhich I liope ere long" to enjoy, 
vith all the faithful, in thy glorious king- 
dom, 

O give me a glimpse of thy countenance, 
and reveal thyself to my seeking soul, tlirough 
the lattice of divine ordinances. Banisli ev- 
ery Avorldly thought, and drive from me all 
vain ideas. 

Come, holy spirit ! come ; O come, and 
cleanse my heart ; prepare it for the rect^p- 
tion of my divine guest ; set it totally free 
from all earthly solicitude ; and make it a 
fit habitation for the ever glorious Trinity, 

O thou, who standest knocking at the door, 
with joy to tJiec I open ; come in, and sup 
with mc; come in, and take up thine eternal 
abode, and let me ever dwell in thee, and 
thou in me. 



XX, 



GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS FOR RF:NEWING GRACE, 
AND AN ASCRIPTION OF EVERY ATTAINMENT AND 
BLESSING TO FREE, UNMERITED GRACE. 

What has God wrought? O, my soul! 
look, and look, and love, and wonder ! How 
am I changed I Ilowdilfercnt are my thoughts. 



i ' 6 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 

my views, my pursuits to what they were ! and 
blessed be God that 1 can say, how diftereiit 
is my practice. I now love what I hated, and 
abhor wliat was my former delight. Ador- 
ed be grace. Not unto me, O Loitl ! not unto 
me, but to thy free and unmerited goodness, 
be all the glory of my salvation. 1 had nei- 
ther power nor inclination, to part with earth, 
or seek for Heaven ; but grace has done the 
work ; convinced me of sin, and made me in 
love with Holiness. It has sliown me my 
own inability to every good thing, and my 
need of so all sufficient a Saviour as Jesus is, 

Grace ! 'tis a sweet, a charming theme, - 
My tliousj^hts rejoice at Jesus' name ; 
Ye ani^els dwell upon the sound, 
Ye Heavens reflect it to the ground. 

I was quickened by grace, when dead in 
trespasses and sins ; by grace, alone, I stand ; 
by grace only do I make any attainments ; 
and without grace I am nothing ; can do 
nothing but sin. The building was begun 
by grace, and the topstone shall be raised 
with shouting grace, grace unto it. Through 
time and eternity, grace shall be still my 
theme; now in time, I can only lisp its 
praises ; then in eternity, when my stam- 
mering tongue is unloosed in a nobler, sweet- 
er song, I will sing its power to save, and 
join with all the nations of the ransomed, in 



RELIcyiOUS EXERCISES. ^ ^ "^ 

i-dioing, and re-echoing tliroiigli (lie vast ex- 
panse of Heaven, the wonders of redeeming 
grace, and in ascribing to the Lamb, the 
blessing, honour, and glory, due unto his 



name. 



O what immoi'tal joys T felt, 
And raptures all divine, ' 
Wlien Jesus told me I was his. 
And my heloved mine. 

Blessed Saviour! I adore thy wonderful 
goodness, to so undeserving a sinner, to so 
vile a rebel ; any hope of pardon, any inter- 
yal of peace, was more than I could possibly 
merit or expect at thy hands ; and yet thou 
hast given me a full assurance of forgiveness, 
and often refreshed me with sensible mani- 
festations of thy good will toward me. Prais- 
ed be thy Name. 

1 charge you all, y«u earthly toys. 
Approach not to disturb my joys ; 
Nor sin, nor hell, come near my heart, 
Nor cause my Saviour to depart. 



APPENDIX, ]S°. v. 



EXTRACTS FROM MRS. RAMSAY's DIARY. 

Saturday, July IQth. 1791. 

My feet had well nigh slipped, through 
the prevalence of my easily besetting sin ; 
nevertheless, I laid me down to sleep, rejoic- 
ing that I had not utterly fallen. Lord, make 
me at all tinjes watchful. 

17th. Lord, may this be a sanctified sab- 
bath ; a day to be remembered for holy res- 
olutions and enabling grace. I am weak ; O 
when shall the time of full strength come. 
In all the great trials and lesser vexations of 
life, may patience have its perfect work, till 
I lie down where the wicked cease from 
troubling, and the weary are at I'est. 

19th. I thank God, for the ease and cheer- 
fulness of this day ; and that, in spite of se- 
cret griefs, and spiritual conflicts, my soul 
and body do both sweetly repose themselves 
in the God of my salvation. 

20th. O day, blackened with sin, and spot- 
ted by transgression ! how long, O liord ! 
how long ; when shall I advance in the spir- 



DIARr. 



il9 



itual life, and not lliiis wound my peace, and 
disgrace my profession. I thank God, that 
my heart aches. O ^et it never be hardened 
through the deceilfuhiess of sin. Oh, my 
God! liow lateJy hath thine affiiclive Provi- 
dence been \v ringing my heart, with a two- 
fold anguish ; the loss of my sweet baby, 
and the consideration of those sins, which 
required this cliastisement ; and yet, how^ 
prone am I to return to folly. Oh ! for the 
grace of true repentance, and of unfeigned 
resignation. 

27th. The two last days, have been days 
of mournful walking. Oh how does the re- 
membrance of my sweet Fanny press upon 
my memory ; and how good is God, that 
thougli cast down, yet my heart is kept from 
murmuring, and aches more for my sorrow 
causing sins, than for the sorrow itself: 
thanks be to Christ, who has purchased a 
Heaven for us, where wc shall be without 
sin, and of course without sorrow. 

2Stli. Lord, make me ashamed of my sins, 
and give me a holy fortitude to resist ; and 
let me be making continual war against them, 
till grace shall conquer, and death set me be- 
yond their reach. 

29th. Oh power of sin, how great art thou ! 
Lord, give me strength. 

30th. JMy heart is ready to break under a 
sense of sin, and to cry out, 1 shall one day 



\ 20 DIARY. 

fall by Ihe hands of these iiihie enemies. Oh 
thou great deliverer, Deatli ! how pleasant 
is tlie thought that thou wilt free me from 
this body of corruption ; hold thou me up, O 
Lord ! that all the days of my appointed 
time, I may walk very hunildy and inourful- 
]y, under a sense of mine iniquities. Cleanse 
thou me from secret faults, and let no open, 
or presumptuous sin, get the better of ine. 
Lord, I am weak ; strengthen me ; I am bowed 
down under thy chastisement ; yet so mufc!i 
lighter is it than my guilt, that I am filled 
witli wonder at thy compassions and long 
suffering. 

31st. Prepare me, O God, for the unknown 
events of this day ; and at all times, keep me 
humble and fearful. 

August ith. Oh ! easily besetting sin ; 
when shall the time come, that thy power 
will be broken, and my poor soul find rest. 
Lord, make me diligent, in self examination, 
and let not any sin have dominion over me. 

5ih, In six and in seven troubles, I have 
found thee, O Lord, my help. Forsake me 
not now, O my God I I am most unworthy. 
Lord, even to look up unto thee ; yet to whom, 
Lord, should I go, but unto thee, who hast 
words of Eternal Life, and the keys of uni- 
versal Providence. Unto thee, commit I my 
ways ; and on thee, as from whom alone ca» 
come help, do I cast my cares. 



1 M 
i>iAia'. ^ ~ 



Gtli. These three past days have been Islack 
days; Lord, deliver lue from sisi, especially 
from those, which so easil> heset, and so oft- 
en oppress me. My soul lon.^s for deliver- 
ance and rest. Holy Spirit of sanctification, 
dwell and rule in me, and deliver me from 
this horrible subjection. 

10th. Mr. Ilollinshead baptized Mr. L. 
Hamsay's little boy, naming him David. 
3Iay God bless the infant, and make it in- 
deed a child of grace. 

12th. Here I still remain a monument of 
forbearing mercy. Oh inilni(e compassion, 
that I should be out of Hell ! Oli Lord ! the 
piessure of my sins is indeed very great. 
Oh ! for thy mercy's sake, deliver me. I 
am weary of my life, because of my daily 
sins; and wbesoas, I on-ht to have made 
progress. Despair is souic^inies ready to 
overcome me, through tlic power of sin. 
Lord, help uje, ennl>le me to endure to the 
end. Lord, al>an<5o:t me not, for I grow 
weaker and weaker. ^ 

15th. and 161h. l^ruly, t!i«' pressure of guut 
is upon me, and I fee] astonished that my bed 
lias not this night beesi m:ide in Hell. O 
Avretched nn; ! when shall 1 be delivered from 
the body of this death, and from the power 
of this sin. Oh, how it cleaves to me, how 
it besets me, how it conquers me, and then 
leaves me almost in the depths of despair. 



L 



i;5-2 



DIARY. 



I*orc1, I treniblej and my soul is sore pained 
witliin nic. Sorely these repeated rebellions 
are forfeiting all thy mercies, and I need 
dread, lest all sorts of bereavements happen 
to me ; I need be in horror, lest the worst of 
bereavements happen to me ; even that I be 
bereaved of (he light of God's countenance, 
and damnation be my portion. Oh ! vilest 
and most complicated of sinners that I am ! 
Terror and dismay take hold upon me. O, if 
men knew me as I am known to my God, I 
should be trampled under foot ; the ehureh. 
would disown me ; the greatest sinners would 
abominate me, my husband, that loves audi 
thinks well of me, would wonder at me, and 
mourn, and I should be hated of all men.=^' 

* These self abasements and cotKleninations, may appear 
to some to be extravagant. To this it is replied, that they 
are warranted by the descriptions of human depravity, givea 
in holy writ. "And God saw that the wickedness of man 
■was great in the earth, and tliat every imagination of the 
thoughts of his heart, was only evil continually." Genesisc 
vi. 5. •' The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked. Who can know it." Jeremiah, xvii. 9^ 
St. Paul calls himself ** the chief of sinners." 2 Timothy i. 
15. It is also to be observed, that they M'ho do not practise 
self examination, are unacquainted with the workings of 
their own minds, and strangers to heart i-eligion, are not 
competent judges. It is with holiness as with knowledge- 
He who knows most, is most sensible of the defects of his 
knowledge. They who have alb;ined the highest eminence 
in religion are most deeply impressed with a sense of their 
own unv/orthiness. As every exercised christian knows 
more of the sinfulness of his own heart, than he possibly 
can of tlie heart of another, the i)ractical result is, that every 
auch christian is apt to think worse of himseif, than of any 



DIARY. 



122 



Lord have mercy upon me! Christ have mer- 
cy upon me, a most miserable sinner, and let 
anything Iiappen to me, rather than I sliould 
be easy in this dreadful, evil state of sin. 
Oil ! Holy Spirit, strive with me. Oh ! gra- 
cious friend of sinners, intercede for me. Oh, 
merciful Father ! have pity upon me, and 
give me power against sin, and more and 
more brokenness of heart, because of it. 
Lord, I can hardly endui^e the view of my 
own heart, vet forbid that it should be hidden 
from me. Jesus, liOrd, I fly to thy cross ; 
for sorrow taketh hold of me, and yet so w eak 
am I, that I have no power against the very 
sins which do so pierce me through. 

Octohei' 19th. As this day, O Lord I is stain- 
ed with sin, so let it be marked by the deep- 
other person. Before ihe charge of weakness, rant, or etV' 
thusiasm, is brought against the subject of these memoirs, 
it is reconi mended to the ohjeclorto make the following ex- 
periment. Let him take the same pains she did, to acquire 
self knowledge, by daily self examination, ny reacting the 
"Word of God, and comparing herself with it ; by studying su<h 
practical authors on the •ubject, as Owen on Indwelling Sin, 
and Flavel on Keeping the Heart ; by daily prayer to (iod, to 
search and try her ; to discover her tohcrself, by ditily watch- 
ing the origin and motives of her thoughts, words, and ac- 
tions ; and by comparing them all, with the divine cominjjnds, 
to do ail for the glory of God ; " to love her Maker with all 
her lieart," and " her neighboui- as Ijcrself," attd then he will 
be more capable of deciding whether the self abasements 
and eond« mnation which run through her diary, unseen by 
anv human being while s!ie lived, was the language of a 
weak, enlbii'iastic person, or the genuine expressions of real, 
^nafiected humility, grounded on self kuovv ledge. 

Editor. 



I«4 



DIARY. 



iiess of my repentance. Let liie blood of 
Jesus cleanse uie fioni my deiilements ; and 
the grace of thy Holy Spirit, pievent me from 
such repeated falls ; and save me from fall- 
ing finally. Oh ! sins against vows ; sins 
against light ; how do they pierce my heart. 
Surely, Oh Lord ! there are none that do eat 
of thy bread, who lift up their heel against 
thee, like me. Lord save me or I perish. 
Oh ! I would not let thee go ; but alas, alas, 
how often do I act as if I knew thee not, 
much less as if I cleaved to thee. Lord have 
pity on a sinner. 

21st. Nanny, our servant, died in an instant 
of an apoplexy. Lord, make it useful to the 
young people in our family, and may we all 
improve by the warning. 

J^oveniber 2d. Alas, Lord, how wretched 
am I, while the desire of mv heart is, I trust, 
truly turned to thee ; yet I often fall into 
such sins, as bring horror upon me. Oh my 
God ! I am weakness itself. Strengthen me 
by thy grace, and preserve me from secret 
sins, and from presumptuous faults, and en- 
able me to walk watchfully. 

Lord, I recommend mvself to thee, in the 
present intricacy of several of my worldly 
concerns. I bless ihee for thy counsels and 
ehastenings; give me wisdom and prudence in 
al! my walk, a n s!.i:;ned toniocr, and a hum- 
ble mind, and cnahje me iionderins; all these 



r 

DIARY. ^ '^^^ 

tilings in my heart, and remembering tliy for- 
mer loving kindnesses, and thy tried faithful- 
ness and compassions, amidst the storms of 
inward (emptation, and outward troubles, to 
liave my heart at peace, being stayed upon 
thee. Lord, if any heavy trial is before me, 
help me to go tlirough it with becoming for- 
titude, and with great meekness ; and walk- 
ing by faith and not by sight, may I humbly 
and patiently wait the great unfoldings of thy 
providence. 

Lord, assist me in my preparations for the 
solemnities of the ensuing sabbath. Break 
my heart down, under a sense of sins, and 
then enable me to look to Jesus. 

5th. Lord, I thank thee who art a God, 
that givest as well as takest. I praise thee, 
that I have one child in heaven. Lord have 
Mercy on those, which remain on earth, and 
in thine own good time and way, bring them 
also to the kingdom of thy glory. Lord, help 
me in the time which is before me, to Avalk 
in a humble, strict and watchful manner, and 
not by any indulgence in sin to be laying up 
sorrow for my wretched self. Jesus, hear 
and hell) a sinner, who casts herseU* on thee. 

lOth.TiOrd be pleased to give me repentance 

for the sins of this day, and power against 

all sin : but especially against that, which 

tliou. O God, secst, and my own heart know- 
La 



126 



DIARY. 



etli, to be my easily besetting sin.=^ Lord 
suffer me not to fall into presiiosptions, and by 

* What is so patlietically deplored thi'Oiighont this diary, 
as the easily hescttiiig siti of its author, rtie editor declares 
himself to be wholly ignorant of. An easily besetting sin, is 
generally understood to be a sin'to the commission of which, 
there is a strong |)rf)j)ensity, either from the constitution, or 
temperament of the body, or some peculiar circumstances 
of the times, of situation, profession, of mind, body or out- 
ward estate. After twenty four years of wed«1ed life, and a 
<listinct recollection of all the scenes thereof, the editor can- 
not ascertain what was really intended bv the sin, so i-epeat- 
cd!y confessed, and resolved against, under the definition of 
the easily besetting sin, of the subject of these memoirs. In 
the whole course of that time he never once saw her so far 
under the itiHuencc of resentment or passion, as to approacli 
the confines of sinful auger, or even to be inconsistent with 
female decoru»n. If she excelled in any one vii-tue, more 
than another, it was meekness. He also declares that in the 
same period he never knew her to utter any thing that could 
be called envious, slanderous, or bitter language ; or do any 
thing that appeared to be the result of malice or ill will. 
That she received slights is well known ; but it is also known 
that she resented them no farther than by avoiding their 
repetition, and by praying for their authors. Of a proud 
overbearing dis])nsilion, there was not the least appearance. 
Asa wifeasul mother, her oidy fault, if such it may be called, 
was the excess of her love, tenderness, and anxiety, for the 
coii.fort and ha]»piness of her husband and children, induc- 
ing her to make too large sacrifices of her own enjoyments, 
for their accommodation. Of any habit of acting wrong, of 
any propensity to it, or even of any such deliberate act, 
there is no recollection. She often reproached herself for 
it doing all that might have been done for restraining ser- 
vants iVom vice, particularly intemperance, antl resolved 
upon stricter measures, and particularly, that each young 
negro, in addition to moral means,*for ])rcventing habitual 
drunkenness, should be severely chastised for each and 
every single act of intoxication. It is possilde tliat this laxity 
of family discipline, may liave been alluded to; but it is 
more prohahle, it referred to something only known to her- 



DIARY. 



127 



ihj great niercv, keep me fioni the dominion 
of any sin. O friend of sinners, have pity on 
110, and make me dread sin above all ihings, 
anS walk >viih holy fear, at a distance from 
aJl the occasions of it. Lord, save me or I 
perish. 

iilst. Lord fill me with shame, for the sins 
of this day, and deliver me fi*om the power of 
sin. Lord, my soul loveth thee, and I groan 
imder this body of conniption ; make thy 
grace sufficient for me. 

25th. My husband set out for Columbia. 1 
jrray God bless ajjd preserve him : the same 
day, my dear liitle Patty fV^llinto the parlour 
lire ; but by God's good providence I was en- 
abled to snatch her out, and smother the 
Hame, before she had received any consider- 
able injury; may God's goodness deeply af- 
fect me ; and may I show forth liis praise in 
a holy life. Lord, pluck her as a brand from 
everlasting burnings, and make her t!iine own 
child. 

Becemher 2Sth. In all my soul perplexity, 
I would come to God; he is a tried refiige, 
and has brought me in spite of sin tJius far. 
Oh, my good God I forsake me not now ; but 
be my very present help in trouble ; to thee 
do I pour out my soul, and from thee do I 

soU", such ;is fo'dncss ami l.-ui^nor in perform Ids: religious 
duties, iuu! »tciK iencies in love to her Maker and litdeemer. 

Editor. 



128 MARY. 

expect, and look for that succour, wliicli I 
so greatly need, and vvbicli none but thou 
canst afford. Lord, I cast myself on thy 
mercy in Christ. Strengthen thou me, lest 
I faint, or utterly fall away. 

Jlugust 12, 1794. Many people are ill just 
now, and deaths frequent ; and although the 
reigning disorder is said to be confined to 
strangers or people wlio live irregularly, yet 
when so many are sick, and dying around us, 
it is a call to all, to gird up their loins, to 
trim their lamps, and to be in readiness. 
XiOrd, make me at ail times ready; tliat so 
thy coming, under whatever circumstances, 
and at whatever hour, may be a matter of 
joy, and not of terror to my poor soul. Oh 
be pleased to give my dear husband judg- 
ment, and steadiness of mind, in the duties 
of his profession, and preservation from the 
dangers of it. My gracious Saviour be tliou 
pleased to deliver me from being under the 
dominion of any sin ; and grace most partic- 
ularly, to watch against the assaults of my 
easily besetting sin ; that so this iniquity, 
may never be my ruin. 

16th. Alas, O my soul, on a review of the 
week past, how little cause have I for rejoic- 
ing ; my dear Sabina lias been brought through 
her weaning at a critical time, beyond all my 
expectation, and is healthy and thriving ; the 
rest of mv children ami family well, when so 



DIAKY. i~9 

Biany are sick, dvhig, or dead, around us ; 
but what liavc I reiideird to the Loiti for all 
these bciieiUs ? It has been a week marked 
by follv, and stained h\ sin, I liave been 
careless in all my duties, and have fallen into 
sins, over which I have again and again 
mourned, and into which I had hoped never 
to fall again ; and now, O my God ! if thou 
shouldst be strict to mark what is done 
amiss, how should I abide. I desire to ap- 
ply to that grace, which is my only refuge. 
Oh Lord, accept and pardon me in Christ ; 
enable me, all the remainder of my life, to 
walk under a huinbling sense of sin, so as al- 
ways to have a broken and contrite heart; 
and Oh niy God ! as the thing which I desire 
of thee above any thing else in the world, and 
Avhat thou alone canst give, be pleased to 
save me from the power and tyranny of sin, 
and grant me inward and outward sanctifiea- 
tion, as a means of avoiding sin ; enable me 
to keep the resolution which I now make to 
perform daily self examination, with more 
diligence and strictness, than I have lately 
done, and constantly to meditate on tlie aw- 
fulness of making a religious profession, with- 
out a daily serious care, to be holy in thought, 
Avord, and deed. 

ISth. With bitterness of spii'it, I desire to 
liumble myself before the Lord, under a re- 
coPicctlon of all ray past sins, and more espe- 
cially, of the sins committed since I liave do- 



i30 DIARY. 

voted myself to him, iind chosen him to he 
my God. Oh, these are the sore hurdens, 
the grievous distresses ; after having known 
the goodness of the Lord, so repeatedly to 
rebel against him. Oh my Heavenly Fa- 
ther! be pleased to give me more wisdom 
and more grace for the future ; my soul pant- 
eth after holiness, and the most earnest de- 
sire of my heart, is to cleave more diligently 
to the way of thy statutes. I would wish to 
be more diligent in self examination ; more 
watchful to prayer ; more steady in resist- 
ing temptation ; more attentive to provi- 
dences, and more careful in the instructions 
which I give my dear children, and in the 
example which I set before them. Lord, I 
am not sufficient for these things ; but hold 
thou me up, and I shall be safe, and my feet 
shall not slide to fall, 

:23d. On a review of the last week, I find 
that mv mind has been much exercised in 
spiritual things ; tltat I have been more 
earnest in private prayer, and soupjit my 
God in the >vatches of the night ; and yet I 
cannot perceive an increase in sanetilication, 
according to my desire; nor that strength 
against sin, which my soul pants after. Oh 
my God, be pleased to give me holiness ; en- 
able me to go on, to serve my blessed Sav- 
iour fully, and to walk with that upright- 
ness, that uniformity, tliat heavenly minded- 
ncss,, which I owe to him who has bought me 



DIARY. 



131 



with so great a price, and ^vlio^ic mercy ant' 
love toward me, is so great and so constant. 
Oh that I could hate sin, not only in my 
judgment, but in my practice, by avoiding it, 
and every tiling that leads to it. in thought, 
word, or deed. Oh how happy are they, 
whose warfare is ended, and who have an 
everlasting period put to all their sins, and 
sorrows and temptations, and are safe in the 
new Jerusalem. Hold thou me up, O Lord, 
and I also shall be safe ; but if thou leave 
me but a moment to my own wretched and 
sinful propensities, I perish, and am undone. 

Septemhev 22, 179+. Mrs. Fetrie died of a 
six days illness ; having been married to Mr. 
George Fetrie, only twelve days. God grant 
that no such awful and awakening providence, 
as the removal of a young person, so lately 
full of life, and healtli, aud strength, should 
pass without some serious improvement; 
some earnest desire to have my loins girt, 
and my lamp buip.ing. 

October 6th. My sister Finckney died, hav- 
ing been generally delirious fsom Friday; and 
her speech so thickened, that though she at- 
tempted it in the intervals of reason, she 
never could make us understand what she 
wished to say to us. Miss Futerell and my- 
self were constantly with her; but my heart 
is too full to write on this subject. Lord, 
tbou knowest my groanings, and my sighings 
are not hid from thee ; commiserate thy poor. 



*-^- DIARY. 

sinful, suficiin/^ creature; ami fill me wilh 
luimilK;^ asid rcHigiiation, under this exceed- 
ingly heavy stroke of thy Ps'ovideiice. 

13ih. llaviui:; had continued sickness of 
body, and a mind fuii of grief ,* tliough I trust 
entirely subsiiitled, and rcsig;ned to the divine 
^vjll, and defiling to Ihid life, health, and 
peace in tiie cross, on the second of Novem- 
ber, I became so seriously ill, as to fill all 
about me with appreliensions for my life; in 
which stale, i remained for two days ; and 
for five nsore, in a state of very deplorable 
weakness; it pleased Ilim, ho^Never, in whose 
hands are Ihe issues of life and death, to raise 
me from the bed of languishing; and upon 
the whole, my general health is better thaa 
it had been before. Oh that by all means? 
God may draw me to himself; and nevear 
cease strivina; with me, till I am wholly his. 

J\'*ovcml}er 21st. Dr. Ramsay left me to gor 
to Columbia; I thank God he was not called 
to this duty, at the time, I was so extremely 
ill. May God bless and take care of this 
dearest and best of friends ; and return him 
in health and safety to me. 

February 7th. 1795. Out of the deptli^ 
have I cried unto tiiee, O Lord, and thou 
hast heard, and helped me. Out of the 
depths now I cry unto thee again, O my 
God. Let not my grievous sins stand as n 
separating wall, between thee and my soul z 
but for the sake of Christ, mv atonement amU 



DIARY. 



iiilerccssoi', hear ihmi mc, and lielp, for from 
thee, alone, can lielp come. 1 am in nti-aifs, 
trials and perplexities of soul, and of body. 
My outward affairs can only be helped by 
thy providence ; my spiritual troubles by thy 
?i;race. Creatures can neither underslaml, 
nor assist me ; to thee, therefore, the giver 
of all good, and the source of all consolation, 
do I come, and humbly commit all my cares 
to thee, who carest for sparrows; how much 
more for thy redeemed ones. Surely I iiavc 
found thee a prayer answering God, and that 
in some very remarkable instances ; aud 
>vhereas, I might have been in hell ; and 
there deserve now to be ; instead of being 
here, 1 have reason to say, hitherto, hath 
the Loi*d helped me ; and yet my wicked, 
faithless heart, dares to doubt, if he will yet 
help me. Oh my good God, whose provi- 
dence is over all thy works, and whose long 
suffering is infinite, punish not this faithless- 
ness of thy poor, broken, and bruised reed, 
by leaving me to myself; but add this to 
all thy former loving kindnesses, to hear 
me in the requests which- I now offer unto 
thee, and send me a gracious answer ac- 
cording to my singular necessities ; calm, 
O Lord, the tumult of my thoughts; com- 
pose my disturbed mind, and make me low- 
ly and resigned before thee, as becomes so 

great a sinner. If thou art pleased to an- 
M 



134 



DI/UIY. 



swer my prayer, and yet that it should be in 
a way of affliction, let it suffice me, (hat the 
Lord reigneth ; and may not a mui'inuring 
thought come across my breast ; but looking 
unto Jesus, who, for my sake, endured the 
cross; may I also meekly submit ; sljouldst 
thou answer me according to my wishes ; Oli 
let it be in mercy, not in judgment; and let 
this renewed instance of thy kindness and 
condescension, draw my heart nearer to tiiee, 
in faith and holiness, than it has ever been. 
Lord, I leave my case, my sorrows and dif- 
iicullies before thee ; pleading only the mer- 
its of the precious Saviour ; to thee, O my 
Jesus, are ail my sighings known; and my 
groanings are not hid from thee. 

Marcli 1st. Lord I come before thee again 
^vith my perplexities ; Oh let not my impor- 
tunities offend my God ; but do thou be pleas- 
ed this diiy for Christ my Redeemer's sake, 
to hear and to help me, and to give a gra- 
cious answer to those prayers which I shall 
offer in thy house, and at thy table ; Lord, 
give me a quiet mind and a resigned temper 
in whatever thou ihalt be pleased to order. 
May no doubtings or unbelief on my part of- 
fend my God ; bnt may I now most remark- 
ably iind thee the God who wilt perform for 
me this tiling which I so much desire ; Lord, 
be pleased to remember thy word unto thy 
servant, upon which thou hast made me to 



DIARY. ~ 1 3> 

iiOj)c. Let not the Lord be angry v/iih his 
poor creature, wlio so earnestly pleads whh 
Iiim now to manifest himself to her soul as 
her God, by answering her present request 
iind supplication. Lord I am thine, save thy 
servant, and if it be compatible v/Uh thy di- 
vine decrees, grant the desire of my heart 
Nvhich thou knowest, and by this manifesta- 
tion of thy providence, clear up my dark 
dvies. and restore peace to my troubled soul. 

11th. May a good and merciful (lod turn 

iff my heart from folly and unbelief, and be 

;)leased in great mercy to quiet my spirit and 

'o force me to confess that he is the wonder 

.yorking God. Deliver me, O Lord, from 

•onsuming care ; clear up my darkened skies, 

be pleased, O my gracious and condescending 

Father, to relieve my mind from its present 

perplexity ; to fit me again for usefulness, 

and to grant me, if it be thy blessed will, a 

gracious and speedy answer to prayer. 

27th. Since the 27th. of January my mind 
>as been more exercised both from outward 
pressure and inward conflict than 1 can ever 
recollect it to have been since I gave myself 
to be the Lord's; most particularly the 7th. 
of February. The 1st. and 11th. of March 
have been extraordinary days, both of agony 
of spirit, and of prayer to God. On the litli 
of April, from the extreme distress I was in, 
I felt as if heart and Ucsh. without anv bodih 



DIAR\. 



jntlisposition, were both going to fall; and 
nothing but the support of the eveilastiiig 
arm, and the pouring out my complaint with 
groans and tears, and sighs into the bosom 
of him, who was onee a man of sorrows, and 
acquainted witli grief, kept me from sink- 
ing. Oh ! who but the Maker of my frame, 
and the former of my spirit, couhl ever know 
what I underwent on this awful day. Had 
I turned to any creature, none could have 
imderstood my case, much less could they 
have helped it ; but I turned unto the Lord, 
my often tried; Oh that I had not to add my 
often provoked friend ; and he said unto me, 
deep as seemeth this mire, thou shalt not 
sink in it, I will make a path for thy poor 
wearied feet, that thou mayest get out ; 
nevertheless, because of thy sins against 
light and love and gracious manifestation, it 
must be with sorrow, and with suffering, and 
with toil. On the 15th. I had a very re- 
markable answer to prayer, a partial lifting 
lip, aad tokens for good vouchsafed me, that 
I should be helped through, and that he who 
made the sun to stand still for Josliua would 
bring me quite through ; since then I have 
been waiting for the full accomplishment of 
that desire of my heart, which I believe the 
liOrd will grant me, though the favour has 
been defended ; yet, alas, alas, I have not 
waited as one so suffering and so helped 



DIARY. 



137 



uuglit to liave Availed. I am defiled witli 
sill ; I have left off to walk so sofdj belore 
the Lord, as I had done be(bi*e (his aid was 
granted me ; and now I am in a plunge again j 
and my skies, whieii seemed to be clearing 
away, are now obscured by clouds and dark- 
ness. Wo is me, for fear 1 have sinned 
away God's mercy, and am fearful about (he 
manifestation of his power ; his all suffi- 
ciency, his tender compassions which day 
and night I have been looking up to him for; 
yet Oil no ! let me not add to my other guilt 
the guilt of unbelief; the Lord has caused 
me to pi'ay ; he will answer the prayer of 
my petition ; he hath caused me to hope, the 
strength of Isiael will not fiiil me ; merit of 
mine own coisld at no time be the plea for 
gracious favour or providential mercies ; and 
now what time I am afraid, and my heart 
doubtelh and tremblelh within me, I will 
lean on Jesus ; I will trust in him ; I will be- 
lieve that for the sake of this dear Saviour, 
my God will perform for me all this thing 
Avhich I hope for from him ; and I will there- 
fore cast all my care on him who careth for 
me, both for my soul and my body. My soul 
Avaited upon God ; upon the bountiful God ; 
from him is all my expectation, and in him 
is all my trust ; OIi Lord ! keep me watchful 
and prayerful. 

M2 



1 38 DIARY. 

June 2d. I can no longer -say the skies are 
dat'kening, for they are so darkened that 1 
see no light ; and 1 am ready to call m;yself 
desolate, forsaken, cast off by God ; yet, I 
dare not nuirmur, I am not in hell, where I 
deserve to be. Instead of poring on my dis- 
appointments, vexations and suiferings, I 
^vould endeavour in this dark dismal night 
of trial, to praise tlie Lord that there is a 
liaven of rest preparjed for the weary ; and 
to lament my sins, which malic such deep 
sorrows necessary to my sanctiiication. Oh 
my Saviour, put out thy helping hand, and 
keep me from sinking in these deep Avaters ; 
let the billows, instead of overwhelming me, 
make me cleave closer to the cross ; and, Oh 
my compassionate Father ! If it be not tiiy 
will, to grant me tlie prayer, which I believ- 
ed thou wouldst have done, having had my 
Jieart so drawn out to pray ; yet at least keep 
me from being overwhelmed by temptation, 
and from being so entirely depressed, as to 
be useless and worthless in that state of life 
to which thou hast called me. If I may not 
record that the Lord hatfi heard, and grant- 
ed my request, at least enable me to know 
and feel, that he hath given brokenness of 
heart, and let me not dare, while under the 
frowns of his providence, to sin against him, 
lest a worse thing come upon me, and my 
isoul be ruined. Lord, do thy whole will; 



DIARY. 



139 



(each me to do, enable me to suffer whatever 
thou slialt see lit, and at last give me rest 
from all trouble and all conflicts, in the 
peacei'ul grave, and the bosom of my Sav- 
iour. Lord, search my heart and try my 
reins ; deliver me from every evil way, and 
lead me to life everlasting. 

Thou art God Almighty; I will act faith 
upon thine omnipotence ; I believe, that in 
spite of all the difficullics which appear to 
uie, thou canst do that which 1 require of 
thee ; I believe also, thou wilt, if it be right 
and proper, and in every case, I desire to lie 
down in the dust before thee. 

June 5th. Lord, have mercy on me a pool* 
tempest losscd wretch, groaning under the 
burden of sin, and held in bondage by sorrow. 
Oil, thou good physician, iieal my soul; 
compose my spirit; pardon my sins; hear 
my prayer; but, above all things, give me the 
spirit of sanctification ; a desire to improve 
by evei'y providence that besets me ; and a 
mind at all times and in all things resigned 
to thy will. With thee, O God, is all power 
and wisdom ; 1 am all impotence and folly. 
Be ph'ased, therefore, O my God, to order 
all my affairs for me, and to be a very present 
help to me in this time of need. Give me a 
sound judgment, that good understanding 
•which belongs to all them who fear the 
name and do thv commandments. Be thou 



140 



UlARV. 



praised, O my God, for past favours ; and hi 
them be sweet encouragements to me, still 
to wait upon my God ; and to cast all my 
cares upon liiui ; in the greatest agonies 
of my spirit, great is the consolation I ex- 
perience, in pouring out my heart before 
him, and seeking counsel at his hands, who 
giveth wisdom liberally, and upbraideth not^ 
let this day be a day of prayer and holy 
waiting on thee ; and let the approaching 
communion Sabbath, be a blessed day to 
me ; a day in which God will draw nigh to 
me, as he does not unto the world ; in which 
the death stroke may be given lo my most 
easily besetting sin ; and I may know thee 
io be in very truth, my reconciled Father in 
■Christ, and be able to add another, hitherto 
to my past experiences. O thou that hearest 
prayer, unto thee shall all ilesli come. O 
thou, that hearest prayer, unto thee, most 
particularly, should those come, who have 
often found thee a prayer answering as well 
as a prayer hearing God. Lord, let the remem- 
brance of the especial times in which I have 
found thee such, be as a cordial to support 
my drooping spirits, and revive my dying 
faith. I believe in the Father, the Son, and 
the Holy Ghost. I desire to renew at this 
time, my often broken covenant, and beseech 
the Lord to njake me from this time forward, 
to the conquering of my last enemy, and bid- 



DIARY. 



141 



(^ingtarewell to sin aiui sorrow, more closely 
iijs than ever, and to enable me to walk holily, 
humbly, soberly and uprightly, as becomes a 
professor of the Gospel of Christ. 

10th. LeW God be praised for all his mer- 
cies. Let his holy name be gloriMed for the 
blessings of the las^t Sabbath, when I was 
enabled to call upon him with my whole 
heart; and to find some consolation and sup- 
port to my burtlened mind in the exercise of 
faith and prayer. Oh, what in the present 
perturbation, conllict and uneasiness of my 
spirit, could support me, but those divine 
consolations which from time to time, the 
Lord is graciously pleased to bestow upon 
me. How long, O Lord, how long hast thou 
appointed, that I shall labour under this per- 
plexity ; Lord, not my will, but thine be 
done ; only be pleased to give me the spirit 
of submission and humble waiting upon thee, 
that so I faint not ; neither let go my confi- 
dence in thee, the God of hope. Lord, hav- 
ing again renewed my covenant with thee, 
give me a heart to enjoy the privileges of 
the covenant ; and w ith lioly boldness to draw 
near the throne of (irace, and looking up to 
Jesus, the great mediator of (he covenant, 
by prayer and supplication, to make known 
unto thee all my requests. liOrd, I spread 
before ihee all my wants ; unto thee I pour 
out all my complaints ; be graciously pleased 



1 42 DIARY* 

to attend to the sorrowful sighing of thy 
poor creature ; and according to the riches of 
thy goodness in Christ Jesus, to perform for 
me, those things which I have so long and so 
earnestly desired of thee ; and /or which I 
am still calling upon thee hy day and by 
night ; above all things, O Lord ! give me 
grace to walk holily , to avoid temptation ; 
to keep in the path of duty, and of watch- 
fulness. Hold thou me up, Lord ! and so shall 
I be safe. 

June 10th. Holy resolutions which I de- 
sire to enter into this day. 

To watch more against my easily besetting 
sin ; and frequently in the day, to ask myself 
what I am about in this respect. 

To be more diligent in reading the w^ord of 
God with meditation. 

To have my thoughts under better govern- 
ment ; saying frequently to them, *• whence 
eomest thou, and whither goest thou." 

To watch against indolence ; remembering 
that the Christian life is a warfare ; and tliat 
the kingdom of Heaven must be taken with a 
Jioly violence, and cannot be obtained by the 
ilothful. 

To watch against extravagance and self 
indulgence, and to endeavour to walk more 
usefully than I have hithei'to done. 

To remember the vow which I have lately 
made unto the Lord ^ and to be looking up to 



DIARY, 



ua 



him witli a holy desire for the time when I 
shaJl be permitted with songs of thanksgiv- 
ing, to pay unto tlie Lord this vow; and to 
record his mercy. 

nth. Oh, wrelch that I am, wlio shall de- 
liver me from tJie body of this death ; imme- 
diately after holy vows and godly resolutions, 
I have committed grievous sins, so that I am 
in horror, and dread, and fear lest I should 
sin away all God's mercy; alas. Lord ! I am 
so vile and wretched, that I am now afraid 
almost even to pray ; yet nothing else can do 
for me ; Lord ! 1 am so vile, that I am a ter- 
ror to myself. Oh, my God! for the sake 
of Christ, have pity on me a miserable sin- 
ner. Oh, wash me in his precious blood; 
cleanse me from my renewed and aggravated 
guilt ; and be pleased to give me thy Holy- 
Spirit to enable me to be more watchful for 
the future. Lord ! I tremble under a sense 
of guilt ; and am so frightened at my owa 
folly, that I am afraid of thy judgments, and 
seem ready to give up all for lost. Lord ! 
have mercy upon me, a most miserable sin- 
ner; and pardon me, I earnestly beseech 
tliee; purify my sin defiled and spotted soul; 
save me from despair; enter not into judg- 
ment with mc, for 1 can hardly abide the con- 
demnation of my own conscience ; Oh, how 
much less the severity of thy justice, buffer 
ine not, O Lord ! to go on in any course of 



144 



DIARV. 



sin; and let this renewed expeiience of iirv 
ivrelchedness and weakness, make nic seek 
more earnestlv for that grace by w hi«h alone 
I can be kept from falling into the greatest 
sins here, and into the depths of Hell here- 
after. 

21st. Dr. Keith's text, Prov. viii. 32. 
^< Now, iherefore, hearken unto me, () ye 
children ; for blessed are they that keep my 
•ways." To hearken to Christ, includes at- 
tending to his providences; attending to his 
precepts; worshipping him with the heart ; 
by an open profession ; by a suitable con- 
versation ; the blessedness of kee|)!ng his 
ways ; peace and joy in believing God's com- 
fortable presence with them through life and 
at death, with a joyful eternity; serious jid- 
di'ess to sinners, and to professors. Dr. Hol- 
linshead'stext. Luke viii. and 18. Take heed, 
therefore, how ye hear. This duty includes 
a constant attendance on the means of hear- 
ing ; with preparation of the mind before 
hearing. We should hear with meditation, 
with prayer, with profession, and with an 
endeavour to bring fortii fruits answerable to 
our advantages^; argutuents for this careful 
attention; when faithfully tulministered it is 
the word of God, and we must give an ac- 
count to God for our improvement or mis- 
Improvement of gospel opportunities ; ad- 



Di'ARY. y^P 

dress to the young on tlie advantages of early 
religion. 

22nd. Monday. My mind is at present 
and lias for some days been in a state of aw- 
ful conflict. I am waiting upon Gotl for a 
mercy which I have sought so long and so 
earnestly, that 1 cannot hut think God has 
drawn me to pray for it. By the morning 
dawn, in the watches of the night, at noon- 
day, and at evening tide, I am still at the 
throne of grace ; besides, many a thought 
sent thither in the course of every hour, 
while at the necessary avocations of my situ- 
ation. Now the promises of God ; his mer- 
ciful manifestations ; his tokens for good 
make me hope ami rejoice ,* again, my sins 
plunge me into despair, and I am weary, 
faint and comfortless ; in the present moment 
my heart fainteth within me, and my spirit 
is exceedingly troubled. Succour me. O 
Lord ! succour me, for I greatly need thine 
aid. Behold a humble broken hearted sup- 
plicant acknowledging herself unworthy of 
the very crumbs of thy mercy; yet trusting 
in thee for extraordinary displays of mercy. 
Send thy reviving grace, for I am perplexed. 
Oh, my God ! keep me from sinful murniMr- 
ings and distrust ; nrake me patient in tribu- 
lation ; and carry on within me the work of 
sanctilication. Lord ! he pleased to grant 
ine'the desire of mv heart, whi«h I mean to 



146 



DIARY. 



ask with a l>o1j» not a sinful i inpatient ini- 
portiinity ; and mj soul shall praise thee with 
jovful lips. 

2()tii. Prepare il^e, O liord ! for all events 
that may be before nie, whether comforta- 
ble or adverse. 1 am io great darkness; be 
pleased to enliglsten me, 1 lack wisdom ; 
Oh, thou who upbraidest not, be pleased to 
give liberally, and according to my great ne- 
cessity. Be tlicu my counsellor by day, and 
my instructor by night; give me that blessed 
knowledge which comes from thy teacJiing; 
let me sit at the feet of Jesus, and learn his 
will ; learn to know it, learn to do, and learn 
to bear it. Wonderful have l>een thy deal- 
ings with me for some time past. Thou Ijast 
answered prayer ; but Oh, in how different a 
manner from what I expected ; nevei'theiess, 
there has been such astonishing admixtures 
of mercy with judgment, that I can only love, 
admii-e and praise. While thou hast punish- 
ed mine iniquities, and by thy very methods 
of granting my request, brought my sm to 
remembrance, and made my ilesh tremble 
for fear of jndji;tnents; thou hast given me 
faith ; held up my goings, and made my soul 
rejoice in thy salvation ; and now Lord ! w hat 
shall I say ; I desire to notice thy provi- 
dences ; tabless thee for thy mercy of yester- 
day, when so great a burden was taken from 
my mind ; and I will hope that thy goodness 



BIARY. 



'-147 



Nviil !<i)cc(lily ])iit iisi etui to Use reiiiiiining 
troubles under \v1iich 1 laboms and i\o ail 
tiiat foi' iiic, wliii'h m\ soul could er.pect 
IVoin such extraordinary be^inuings of fa- 
vour, and ^vliicli il never could have prayed 
foi: so earnestly, if Ihou Iiadst not enabled me. 
Answer me, O my God ! in mercy and not in 
jud^;ment; ami let me not lose thy blessings, 
eidier from not asking, or from asking a- 
miss. Oh thou great searcher of hearts, 
known unto thee are all my thoughts ; send 
out thy light and thy truth ; and let them 
teach me; and make all my tho*jghts all 
luy desires, and all my prayers, such as thou 
wilt graciously approve ; accept and answer 
for the sake of Christ Jesus, that great me- 
diator between God and man, in and tlirough 
Avhom alone, 1 have any confidence in draw- 
ing nigh to thee. |j^ 

29th. Oh, careless, wretched, sinful crea- 
ture ; Ijord, let not iniquity prevail ; save me 
or I perish. 

July o(\. Desiring to redeem time for sacra- 
mental preparation. Much exercised about 
sins committed since the last month ; and 
jiiy heart very low ; when, on serious exami- 
nation, I find that I have fallen again and 
ngain into sins repented of, suffered for and 
solemnly covenanted against ; so that I am 
ready to say, I shall one day fall by the hands 
of this mine cjit my ; nevertheless, I think 



HS MARY. 

and hope that sin becomes everj day a great- 
er bui'den lo me ; that I am never at rest in 
the commission of it, and that I am more 
than nsually afraid of its indwelling' power, 
and cannot pass even a few hours without 
looking to Jesus, and longing for pardon and 
sanctiiication ; yet alas, alas ; this is not 
where I ought to be. I have been many 
years a professor ; God has been wonderful- 
ly gracious both in spiritual and temporal 
affairs ; and instead of having just life enough 
to be grieved at sin, and desirous of holiness,. 
I ought to have made great advances in sanc- 
tiiication, and to have been eminently pious, 
instead of being saved as it were by fire. I 
ought to be able to say, " I have fought the 
good fight." Lord ! be thou pleased to par- 
don all my deficiencies ; to fill me with grace, 
and to enable me very much to improve at 
this time. Oh, meet me this day in thy 
courts ; may I be filled with the spirit of 
prayer, and have my heart very much disen- 
gaged from this world, I desire at this time 
particularly to notice God-s providential deal- 
ings with me ; more especially some remarka- 
ble incidents which have happened to me 
within three years; to glorify God for his 
judgments, and to rejoice in the manifesta- 
tions of his mercy. I have lately received 
some especial favours, which I desire grate- 
fully to itemember, and to show forth my 



DlAllY. '^^^ 



tjianlvsgiviugs with my lips aiul by my life; 
uitli rcspccL to some otliei* concerns, God is 
leading me by a ^vay Ibat I know not ; but I 
am pcisuadcd it will be tbc rigbt way ; yea, 
I cannot but tbink tliat luiving done so much 
for me, so unexpectedly so compassionately, 
he will fulfill ere long all my desire, and 
make me to know ibat be is a wonder work- 
ing God. Ob, that this may be a ilay of great 
devotion witb me^ may God bless the minis- 
ter who is to preach, and provide for every 
seeking soul, that which sball be most suita- 
ble for it. 

Jiilij 5tb. Dr. Keith's text. Isaiah xlv. 
24. ** Surely sball one say, in the Lord 
have I righteousness and strength." Reviv- 
ing words to souls ready to sink in desjion- 
dency under a remembrance of past sins, and 
consciousness of present weakness. Christ 
is this Lord, in whom we have this righteous- 
ness, and this strength. Our righteousness 
as f>eai'ing what we bail deserved, standing 
between offended God and offending man, 
lie saves us not only from the guilt, but the 
power of sin ; he gives us strength for all our 
%vork, and all our warfare ; the christian life 
is a constant w arnng ; a life of diligence, ac- 
tivity, self-denial, I'esistance of temptations^ 
corruptions, evil inclinations, which we could 
never accom])lisb in our own strength ; a4- 

-N 2 



i5U 



DIARY. 



dress to the unconverted, to seeking souls, 
professed discipJes. 

12ih. Dr. Keith's text. Psalm Ixv. 12. 
*«Thy vows are upon me, O God! I will 
render praises unto thee." Yows of dedica- 
tion of property or persons allowahle under 
the Gospel as well as under the law, having 
never heen forbidden ; but this was not the 
point of view in which he meant to treat the 
subject ; but of that religious acknowledg- 
ment of God to be our Lord, and dedication 
of ourselves to be his people, wJiich was the 
duty of every one. Particular seasons suit- 
able for the making and renewing sucli vows ; 
limes of dedicating ourselves or our children 
by baptism ; and of coming (o the table of 
the Lord ; times of special affliction ; exam- 
ple of Jacob when he left his father's house 
to go into a strange land ; times of especial 
mercy and deliverance ; example of David, 
when he penned the 116th. Psalm ; exhorta- 
tion to those wlio have already taken the 
TOWS of the Lord upon them in the ordi- 
nance of the Lord's Supper ; to those who 
keep back from a dread of giving up the 
world and being bound to walk more strictly ; 
to those who keep back from a fear of not 
performing their vows, and of falling off. 
The first are in an awful state, the latter 
have every thing to encourage ; exhortation 
to all p for all have in some degree the vows 



DIAHY. 



ol* the Loi'il upon them. Who, but at some 
period of their lives, in some time of awful 
affliction, some threatened stroke upon their 
property, their reputation, their dearest re- 
lations, have called upon God. and promised 
to devote themselves to him, if he would but 
help them. Who but in some threatening 
danger by sea or by land ; some severe lit of 
illness ; some sore pressure of mind or body, 
have, at some period of their lives, in some 
vay or other, takea the vows of the Lord 
upon them ; nay, every day's mercy calls 
every day for gratitude ; and, above all, the 
gift of God's Son, and the offers of salvation, 
particularly bind us to it, A very excellent 
sermon, and most particularly suited to the 
state of my mind. 1 desired and attempted 
in the evening to take a survey of God's 
mercies to me, both spiritual and temporal. 
i)f my many broken vows ; to beseech of 
Clu'ist to undertake for me, from a sense of 
mine own inability to keep holy resolutions; 
with holy shame and indignation did I com- 
plain to my God of the prevalence of my 
easily besetting sin, in spite of all the vows 
I had made against it ; most earnestly did I 
pray to God to take me then ; to remove me 
that very night, rather than I should live to 
be the bond slave of corruption, or that this 
iniquity should be my ruin. 



152 DIARY. 

I desired to renew a vow, wJiieli I made 
some time ago to the Lord ,• nasiseiy, IT the 
Lord would grant me a certain favour, Avhicii 
I have for some time desii'ed of him, (1 hope 
according to his will, hecause I have been 
most wonderfully drawn to jyray on the sub- 
ject ; and when my heart was bursting with 
grief, I have felt such inward consolations, 
and received such tokens for good as could 
only come from God,) which favour I also 
desire of him, as far as 1 can know myself, 
^vitli sincere resignation and ^vishes to sub- 
mit to his will, if he should be pleased to dis- 
appoint me ; the vow 1 have made, and made 
in the anguish of my soul, is this ; if the 
Lord shall be graciously pleased to perfoi*m 
this thing for me, I will keep two days of 
thanksgiving in every year, so long as I shall 
live ; on each day giving to the poor, and en- 
deavouring to find out some proper object, 
thirty dollars. Lord ! all my goods are notli- 
ing worth; and all my life ought to he thine, 
whether thou granlest or whether thou with- 
holdest; but I desire to do this, if thou shalt 
give me the opportunity, as an expression of 
gratitude ; a bind upon my own heart to re- 
member the Lord's mercy ; and a means of 
drawing my heart nearer to thee. In addi- 
tion to this, I desire to keep two days of hu- 
miliation in every year on set days ; to sit 
mournfully before the Lord of Hosts, and to 



DIARY. i ^f 

humble myself for those sins, which have 
been as a separating cloud between God and 
my soul, and may have been the means of 
keeping me so long in a state of darkness, 
perplexity, and anxiety, known only to my 
poor sorrowful heart, and to the Maker of 
my frame. Lord ! have mercy on me, a most 
miserable sinner ; and make every path of 
duty plain and straight before my feet. What 
time I am afraid, I will call upon God ; even 
upon God, that performeth all things for his 
people ; O may I be one of them. 

19th. Dr. Keith's text. Psalm, Ixxvii. 7, 
8, 9. " Will the Lord cast off for ever ? and 
will he be favourable no more ? Is his mercy 
clean gone for ever ; doth his promise fail for 
evermore ? Hath God forgotten to be gra- 
cious ; hath he in anger shut up his tender 
mercies." • 

Introduction. The frame of David's mind^ 
when he penned this Psalm ; the anxious in- 
quiries of the people of God, whenever his 
dispensations to them or dealings with them 
do not correspond with their desires ; these 
despairing, gloomy thoughts arise from the 
judgment of sense, the weakness of faith ; or 
from taking only a superficial vicAv of the 
Lord's doings; judging of things according 
to their present appearance, without advert- 
ing to what may be their final issue. We are 
permitted to be in this frame, to discover to 



lis the corruption and weakness of oin* own 
liearts ; for (he trying and exciiinj^ our 
graces ; and for lite glory of God. When in 
this siiualion, either from the pressure of 
outward trial, or the an^^uisli of spiritual dis- 
tress, we sliould be encouraged to I rust in 
God, and to persevere it prayer, following 
the example of the woman of Canaan ; in- 
stead of saying, why will God so long refuse 
the desire of my lieart ; we should say« why 
should I not continue to wait upon God, who 
\vill assurediy grant me the spiritual blessings 
I ask ; and even not refuse me the temporal 
mercies I wish for, if they be for my good. 
Great encouragement to parents to pray for 
the salvation of their children, or of any neau 
and dear friend, who is much on their hearts. 
Persevering prayer can do wonders. The 
longer we have waited for any especial mer- 
cy, the more delightful will it be to find God 
performing all things for us. When God 
liath heard the prayer of our petition, and 
granted it in some measure, we should cheer- 
fully acknowledge it, and have a new song in 
our months, even the praises of our God, 
saying, " Who is like unto thee, O Lord ! 
among the Gods ; who is like unto thee, 
glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing 
wonders/' 

This sermon was wonderfully suited to the 
<Btate of my mind, and the situation of my af- 



DIARY. 



15, 



Till IS. I liuvc hceii more than usually enlarg- 
ed in prater lor oar niijiislei s the ])ai5t week; 
and I felt this morning as if God had indeed 
sent me, hy our valuable Dr. Keith's mouth, 
a word in due season; may God strengthen 
his hands and establish his heart, and return 
sevenfold into his bosom his labours of love 
among us. iMay he find God to be to him, 
as he described him to us this morning, by 
way of encouragement to prayer, the Father 
of mercies, and the God of all consolations; 
his God in covenant, who overruleth all things 
for the good of his people, and will make all 
things work together for their best advan- 
tage. O, that I could havi^ faith and patience 
to wait the issue of every ti-ial, mid not to 
judge of the Lord's dealings by the anguish 
of the present moment, remembering the ex- 
ample of Job ; for who, said Dr. Keith, could 
have thought what designs of mercy tiie Lord 
had for this man ; had they beheld him de- 
prived of his property, bereaved of his chil- 
dren, sniitten in his liesh. persecuted by his 
enemies, censured by his friends, and even his 
God writing bilter things against him; and 
yet the latter end of this man was to be bet- 
ter than his beginning. 

Dr. Holiinshead's text. 2 Timothy, iv. 7. 
*< I have fought a good fight ; I have finished 
my course ; I have kept the faith." A re- 
trospect of our past lives, a useful employ- 



156 DIARV. 

ment, particularly proper and pleasing in the. 
close of life, if we have the testimony of a 
good conscience, that we have fought the 
good fight ; to fight the good light, implies a 
life of holiness, according to the rales of the 
gospel ; not building on any wrong founda- 
tion, or setting up decent morality in the 
room of christian holiness ; it implies also a 
progression in sanetification ; not to pro- 
gress is to decline ; to fight the good figlit 
includes also perseverance to the end ,* ad- 
dress to those who have entered the lists ; 
and to those who have not yet begun the 
warfare. 

31st. My soul is exceedingly sorrowful and 
weary, because of sin. Oh, that I had wings, 
liiic a dove, that I might flee away and be at 
rest. I hoped that tlirough grace I had 
walked more carefully, more warily of late, 
and trusted tliat, at this season of solemni- 
ties, I sliould be enabled to praise God, for 
having made a better progress in religion ; 
but, alas, within a few days I have fallen off; 
ceased to resist with vigour the assaults of 
my easily besetting sin; and my soul is full 
of trouble and darkness ; yea, my Gotl, whom 
J have ofiended, hideth his face from me, and 
I am troubled. Oh Lord ! have mercy upon 
use, arid either give me power against sin, or 
full pardon, thiough Christ, for all my past 
offences, and a speedy entrance into that 



DIARY". ^O.^ 



world, where I shall never sin. Oh Lord ! 
I am faint and wearj ; I loathe and aI>hor my- 
self. Oh, coiT\nassio!iate my ease ; help nic 
by thine Almigrity power, and let sin never so 
reign in me as (hat I should quietly ohey it. 
August 3d. Yesterday was a sacramental 
sabbath. In the morning I felt my heart so 
bowed down under a remembrance of past 
sins, and more especially of sins recently com- 
mitted, that I was ready to set myself down 
as a vile hypocrite, fit only for damnation, 
ripe for Hell, and so utterly ujiworthy of 
eating with the children of God, that I 
thought I must have staid at home in sor- 
row, and tears, and despair; however, with 
a trembling, fearing, aching heart, I went ; 
Dr. Hollinshead*s sermon was a very excel- 
lent and extensively encouraging one ; but, 
alas, I fear I have more need of having my 
heart broken, than of having it comforted^ 
for truly, J am a great sinner ; when I con- 
sidered my broken vows, r.iy faithless engage- 
ments ; that I conti.iue on sinniiig against 
mercy, against love; sinning at this partic- 
ular time, when 1 am waiting on God for an^ 
swcrs to prayer ; and wlien every power of 
my soul ought to be engaged in his service ; 
when 1 felt that my sins are not trilling. ones, 
such as the weakness of human nature, or 
the strengtli of temptation might palliate ; 
but that 1 am a wretch, deserving of more 
O 



^ 58 DIARY. 

wralli, and temporal, and eternal chastise- 
iiient, tlvdn any cieatiire ever was, who had 
ever received one half the mercies from God 
that I have ; 1 was afraid to \iiake any mora 
resolutions ; afjaid to hope that ever I should 
be better : and in the (h ead of myself, the 
inability which 1 feel to walk perfectly before 
my God, even for one week, the dread of be- 
ing a prey to temptation, and the bond slave 
of corruption as long as I shall live, I could 
only wisji tiiat God would be graciously pl«as» 
ed just to save my soul fi-om Hell ; among 
the njany mansions which are in his house t» 
appoint for me the very lowest, and to re*- 
move me from tlsis state of conflict, and Avar^- 
fare, where I am so often foiled. Oh, my 
Saviour I be pleased to hide me in thy bo- 
som ; I am more weak and more wicked tliaii 
any thou didst ever undertake for; and W 
thou leave me one luoment to myself, I am 
lost for ever. Oh, dear Saviour! heal my 
backslidings ; bring back my wandering feet, 
and have pity on the poorest wretch that ever 
came before thee ; above all things, keep me 
from ever being consented in any state of 
sin ; Oh, deliver me from being contentedly 
guilJy. 

^PLugust2oi]. Last Thursday a prayer so- 
ciety was held at Dr. Keith's. I hear there 
lias been one for ahout a fortniglit on Sun- 
day evenings, at Br. liollinshead's. I pray 



159 
BIARY. 



■the irood of so.ils and (lie vev.v;*! «t vongio,. , 
my own mind is not yet nr.ido np about at- 
tendins; tl.em ; 5 look to G«d. v.l.o uv.ows uL 
my thoughts and ail iny circumstances, loi 

direction. , . ^ , ,^^,„ 

September 7th, Three tilings I imve p.u» 
ticularlv desired of the Lard at his tahle yes- 
Icrday ; 1st. Thut my easily besetting sm 
jnighl receive its death's ^voiuid ; that I may 
never be under its dominion ; or that of any 
other sin ; yea, rather tlian 1 shonld ever In c 
in the vohmtary indulgence of any sin, that 
it vvouUl please God to remove me froni time 
to eternity, if I might but l^^ve the lo>^^st 
seat in Heaven. >v]iere I may see his l\ice and 
never sin. 2d. The thorough conversion ot 
a very near and dear friend, Nvith such an in- 
lerference of providence in some V^^^^f^ 
concerns of tlieirs as may be to me, if it be 
his blessed will, an evident ansvver to pia^r. 
Sd. That mv dear husband may be preserved 
from worldiv entanglements, and enabled so 
to manage llis earthly affliirs, that they may 
never interfere xvilh his heavenly business, 
and more especially, that >ve may yalner be 
sa sfied ^vith a smaller portion of llus world s 
^oods, than to run the risk of ^Hig grea^^ 

involved. In pouring out my heart beioie 
<iod, these things were particularly on my 
«iiimi ', and I hope presented through my gi^- 



A 6.0 

DIARY. 



^ ec ol fervo,,!., ofliope, :.nd of trust in God • 
but son.e,h.ng also is neeessa^ on my pavt 

occa ii:"?:-"'^ '" ^'■' '""'^^'"' *» -»wtre 

ove. vlll? T i"' '"'"■'' «sP««iaIly of ti.e sin 
ove wliicli I liave so much mourned nn.l 
against which I did at that time s'eal'esuj 
piaj May I call myself to a daily aceounV 

Tv^tlin '.",T.S»- '« "- ^Tu - 

oirni^i it ""*' ' Z'^'*' exercised con- 

ceinng it, and never leave watehin- and 
Pi-aymg, till God has granted me omi, y e 

tlict For the second petition I will striv^ 

ana uprightly, that so those who love me miv 

iny wish i, t^ ^^""" "'^- ^*«- "'" *'"'•''> 
Sfcrett . *" "'"'?p «y fa>nily affairs with 
tUiCietion ; to avoid extravagance: to make 
no unneeessary demands on my dear and af 
fectwnate husband, that the desire of laiidy 
suppl.^.ng my wants or wishes, may not he ^ 
snare to him, to make him engaged lar-e 
schemes for riches, and to thisl ftel?,artl 
..larly houn.1 by n.y lather's having been ner" 
nitted to give us so sn.ail a portion of hi" for" 
tunc, compa, ed to what he had declared to b^ 
.s m cnt.on, and on the sti-ength of whiVh I 
i.ved less frugally in the first ^cars after mv 
'"a.-r.age than I should have done : but 'vh^^ 



BIAR^. ^^^ 



f) Lord ! is sufficient for tliesc things ; not 
1; a poor, weak, wretched creature, whose 
\laily experience is an experience of prone- 
ness to folly and backsliding. At thy feet, 
therefore, Oh my cruciiied Saviour! do I 
fall. Wash me in thy precious blood. Gra- 
ciously grant me the pardon of my past sins? 
and send into my heart the Holy Ghost, tlic 
sanctifier, that those tilings for which I have 
no power, may, through help oh(ained tiom 
Heaven, be performed in me and by me. 

Sunday, Janimry 3d. 1796. Let me not 
receive especial favour of the Lord and faiU 
as I have too often done, to record it. My 
God gave me on this day such manifestations 
of his grace, his power, his all sufficiency, as 
ou«hi never to be forgotten. Exercised with 
inward conllicts and with sorrow of heart, 
under which I have gi-oaned for near eleven 
months past, and which from some peculiar 
circumstance have exceeded in kind and con- 
Jtinuancc, all the other sorrows of my liCe^ 
-without any alleviation in outward appear- 
ance, T drew near to that God, who has sup- 
ported me from sinking altogether, and from 
time to time has granted me such refresh- 
ments of grace as have kept me from utterly 
fainting under the pressure of this affiiction 
so grievous, so complicated, so inexplicable to 
any but him unto whom 1 have daily poured 
forth my complaint: yea, and sought him 



l>2 



162 

niARY. 



also, ,„ (he nigl.t season. Some addition^ 
causes of sonovv |,a,! happened to me w thin 
the ast week, whieh had been also causes of 

and ,?„i 1-5'' """' '""«'' admixture of sin 

in^ or clf^r P P?'"*- ' '""J »"=«» seek- 
ing 01 Ood, the directions of his providence 

and the teachings of his good spiri\ wJth deep 

umihation and with caniest desire through 

which Ih V? ?"" ""T '"'" *''"^ rcjuests 
I. HO him; yet with my whole soul desirina- 
also suhmission to his will i„ whatever waf 
It should declare itself. On the Sahl^th 
inorning. my .„a| panted after Gcd ,• and af 

^e "id t,',"^' I" '"'? ^""' 'ne-'^P'cs'sible de. 
Mie, . nd thus I went to the sanctuarv, and 

lue . the bieakmg of bread, and in such 
niamlestations of his presence L I re oicein 
huving expeiienecd,- but I cannot describe 
Ihcm in any suitable manner; nevertheless I 
will record them to the glory of God' Se 

Having ponredS m ; so^u mfa^'^ni 
besought him that he iould e" her gt; me 

i^lv ?o'l "^ '7 ''"="■*' "'• ^'"'^ '"/^i" en! 
v„. ^ . '^''"' S'-anting that I might in 
^ei-vdoed and in very truth be the Lord's" 



DliVRY. 



16: 



^vhatevei* should be denied mc. I felt such 
an annihilation of self, such a swallowing up 
01 my Avill in the will of God, that my soul 
lay, as it were, prostrate at the fo6t of the 
cross. It lay meekly and sweetly at the feet 
of Jesus, saying", Lord ! not my will but thine 
be done. Lord, let thy >Yill be done in me, 
and by me, and upon me. This I know I 
have off en said, and said sincerely ; but then 
I have said it painfully and with conflict ; but 
now. I said it with inexpressible sweetness of 
acquiescence, cheerfully giving up all to God, 
though in that all was comprehended, that for 
M'hich I had Ijeen ])raying fo!' many months, 
and believed myself praying according to the 
divine mind, on account of the very great 
di^wings out of my heart to pray in the way 
I did, and which I could only account for as 
co:,)ing from God, ISow thought I, ^vhat is 
the Lord about to do ; he is eitlier preparing 
iTi« for an answer to prayer, or by some rough, 
though right way, to draw mc nearer to him- 
self. As yet in every /cspect I walk in dark- 
ness, not knowing what tL will of the Lord 
is . executing this, that I am assured of his 
loving kindness from the communion which 
I have had with him and with his Son Jesus. 
I felt in this way all the Sunday, and all Mon- 
day ; on Monday evening, through Monday 
liight, and on Tuesday morning, I felt the 
^ame resignation, yet with some degree of 



164 



BIA^T. 



trembling, fj'om sometlihig wliicli had hap- 
pened, expecting very soon to be called to the 
trial, uhich 1 had so long dreaded ; but on 
Tuesday the ^vill of God was in some degree 
manifested to me, and I received such assur- 
ance about the affair which has so long per- 
plexed and bowed me down, that I could hard- 
ly believe what I heard ; and now God, who 
has done so much for me, will not leave his 
work uniinished. 'No, I believe that the Al- 
mighty God, who has so far answered pi'ayer, 
Avill perform for me the wljole desire of my 
heart. Oh may I not forfeit the continuance 
of his mercies, by forgetting this season of 
his loving kindr^ess ; but may I feel my heart 
more strongHy di'awn than ever to the Lord ; 
may I remember ilia vows I have made to 
him in the days of my sorrow ; lament my 
mercy deferring sins, and walk in holiness 
before him all the days of my life. 

June 19th. 1796. Dr. Keith's text, Psalni 
xlvi. 8. "Come, behold the works of the 
Lord. What desolations he hath made iu 
the earth.-' 

Dr. Ilollinshead's text, Luke xiii. 2. and 
3. *' Suppose ye, that these Galileans were 
sinners above all the Galileans, because thev 
suffered such things ? I tell you, nay ; but, ex- 
cept ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.'* 

Both these sermons were on occasion of 
the melancholy events of the last week ; a 



liiAllV- i65. 



great fire, and botli most escellciitly calcu- 
lated to do good. Dr. lloljinshead was in a 
Biost particular manner serious, pathetic, and 
animated. May God bless the pious laboui's 
of our good ministers, and their constant at- 
tention to seize every opportunity, when the 
hearts of their hearers are m©st likely to be 
impressible, to do tfe^ work of the Lord, and 
preach his word with fidelity and zeal. 

.lugiist 23d. Eleanor ami myself taken 
with llie fever. I had it moderately, but our 
dear Eleanor was like to die ; she was brought 
low, indeed, and cur hearts were filled with 
anguish on her account ; but it pleased God 
to give efficacy to the means used for her re- 
covery,- a fourth bleeding, more copious than 
three precedhig ones, seemed to relieve some 
of the most distressing and alarming symp- 
toms she laboured under. I did not hide her 
danger fjom her, and have since repeatedly 
urged to her the propriety of ilevoting to God 
the life which he redeemed from tlie grave. 
Gracious God, enable me not only to teach 
her, but also to walk unblameably before her, 
that my pi-ccepts and example may be in uni- 
son; and may she and all our dear children 
be the Lord's in deed and in truth. 

September 13th. At five in tlic morning, 
Mrs. Keith died : she was a very good wo- 
man ; lived a religious life; and. as far us 
tlie violence of her disorder would permit, 



166 DIAUY. 

appeared (o l>ear hc^r tesHmony to what she 
had experienced of (he trutlis and comforts 
ofiTligion |o the last. 

ISth. In the moriiiiig Dr. Keith preached 
to a large coDj^-regation a very excellent and 
jiioving sermon, (Vom John xiv. 27. •* Peace 
I leave with yoii, my peace I give unto you. 
Kot as the Avorhl giveth, give I unto you. 
Let not your heart he trouhled, neither let it 
be afraid." 

January 29th. 1797. I no longer note the 
texts, because my ehk'st daughter does, which 
I think a gm>d means of iixing the Scriptures 
in her memory. 

JK'oveinhev 29th. 1797, Since the death of 
my dear little Jane, which happened the last 
day of July, after two months of anxiety and 
suspense, I have been in great weakness of 
body, and sadness of mind. During the last 
three weeks of her sickness, I was deeply ex- 
ercised in soul. Some very especial sins and 
failures in duty, were set home on my con- 
science, and in her sickness I felt the rod due 
to my departures from God, and the uneven- 
iiess of ujy walk. I endeavoured to seek the 
Lord, by deep contrition, confession of sin, 
repentance, faiili, and prayer. I sought the 
Lord by day, and spent almost every hour of 
the niglit, that I coisld s^iare from nursing, 
prostrate before him. taking liardly any bod- 
jiv rest. I tjiouiiht if the lite of the child 



MARY. 1 Gty 

should be granted me, it Mould be an evi- 
dence, that tlie Lord, for Christ's sake, Iiad 
forgiven nie those things, whicli with so manv 
tears, and with such hrokcnness of spirit, I 
had bewailed before him ,* and there were ap- 
pearances of her recovery ; but, alas, Iiow 
vain were my hopes. My child was taken, 
and I was plunged into the double sorrow of 
losing a most cherished and beloved infant, 
and of feeling the stroke, as a hiding of the 
Lord's face, and a refusal to be entreated by so 
great a sinner. Lord ! I desire to be humbled, 
and to acknowledge thy rightful sovereignty 
over me and mine; to lay my hand upon my 
mouth and my mouth in the dust before thee, 
and to say. Righteous art thou, O Lord! in 
all thy ways, and just in all thy judgments. 
Any thing that is not Hell, is too good for 
jne ; and, therefore, I desire not only to sub- 
mit, but to admire the grace that leaves me 
imtouched in any part. Fsojn t],i^ death of 
this baby, to the present Isour, i»i hodv has 
been in a state of great weakness; and \vi(h 
regard to the soul, I hiive walked in dark- 
ness. My will is hroitght into humltlc sub- 
mission to the diviMe will, hut I have had 
none of those sensible manifestations of the 
divine pi'csenee and consolations of the spir- 
it, jvhicli, at some seasons of alliiction, bave 
enabled me, not only io bow before the Lord, 
but even to rejoice in tribulation. Other 



^^^ CIAR^",. 



trials, of a temporal nature, I have also un- 
dergone at this time, and even now many 
things seem to be going against me ; yet 
I would endeavour to hope in the Lord, and 
to stay myseif upon the rock of Israel. 
Make me, O Lord ! a true saint, that I may 
fly with confidence to the refuge of thy saints. 
Hold thou up my goings, that my feet may 
not slip, and hide me under the shadow of thy 
wings till these calamities be overpast. I de- 
sire, O Lord ! to devote myself to thee, to be- 
seech thee to be my covenant God and Father 
in Christ. Enable me, 1> my God ! to wallc 
as under the bonds of the covenant, and in all 
times of trouble and sorrow to take hold of* 
covenant consolations, and to remember that 
all shall work for good to those who trust in 
thee. Help use to look back to past experi- 
ences ; to call to mind thj former answers^ to 
prayer ; and to trust that thou, wlio hast help- 
ed me hiUierlo, wilt not now forsake me. 
Support ni duder the late denials of answer 
to prayei*. Show me any unrepented sin ; 
discover to me any indulged or hidden iniqui- 
ty, ^yhieh ma^v have provoked thee to hide 
thy face from me; and give me that true re- 
pentance, which consisteth, not only in con- 
fessing, but in foisaking sin. Lord! thou 
knowest my present wants and necessities ; 
the burdens of my spirit, and every inward 
grief. I de^iire to he cnreful for nothins;, but 



DIARY. 169" 

in every thing by prayer and supplication to 
make known rny requests unto thee. Grant 
or refuse what I imagine I want, as thou, 
O Lord, shalt see lit ; only grant that, 
at all times and in all seasons, I may walk as 
becometh a true christian. O thou merciful 
High Priest, who art touched with a tender 
compassion for our infirmities; thou who 
makest intercession without ceasing for thy 
redeemed ones, look upon me in this time of 
trouble. Thou knowest my groanings, and 
my sighs and tear& are not liid from thee. 
Hear me, from Heaven, thy dwelling place, 
and when thou hearest, have mercy. ^ Suffer, 
O Lord ! no tiial to I efal me, from which 
thou wilt not make me a way to escape, and 
make me know by renewed experience, if it 
be thy blessed will, that nothing is too hard 
for the Lord ; that his ear is not heavy that 
it cannot hear; noi* his hand shortened that 
it cannot save. Make me to dread every sin. 
which might be as a separating wall between 
my God and my soul. Oh, my God ! if it be 
thy will, remove the pressure under which I 
labour, or give me that thorough resignation 
of mind, which it becometh the creature to 
exercise toward its Creator. 

Oh Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I give 
myself up to thee, to be, and to do, anil to 
bear whatever thou shalt see fit for me dur- 
ing ray journey through life. Renouncing all 



ITQ DIARY. 

self government, I desire to liiive my will 
swallowed up in the divine will, and to submit 
myself to the rightful authority and tlie mer- 
ciful disposal of the majesty of Heaven, su- 
premely desiring nothing but salvation for me 
and mine? and persuaded that God will order 
all things better for me < !mn I could for my- 
self. Yet since, O Lord ! thou dost not only 
permit but encourage us to come nigh to thy 
til rone of grace, and to spread our wants be- 
foi'e thee, permit a poor worm to claim this 
privilege, and to relieve her sorrows by pour- 
ing them out before thee, and beseechisig 
the interference of thy mercy in her present 
concerns. Doth God care for sparrows, and 
will he not care for his people ? Thou dost 
care, C) Lord ! and my faith and hope are in 
thee, that now, even now, O my God ! thou 
Avilt show that, though for some months past 
thou hast appeared to hide thy face from me, 
to reject me, and cover thyself as with a thick 
cloud, on account of my transgressions, thou 
wilt no longer break thy bruised reed, but 
that for me, even me, most unworthy, there 
shall be a gracious revival, a merciful and 
providential lifting up. 

Shall not the ,Tudge of the whole earth do 
right. O yes, he will. Shall not he, who 
freely gave his own Son for us, deal kindly by 
liis redeemed ones. Oh yes, he will. Be not, 
therefore, cast down, Oh my soul, neither be 



DIARY. 



m 



thou disquieted >vithin me, for I shall yet 
praise hini >vho is the light of niv countenance 
and iny God ; yea, I will even now praise 
him, for whether he gives or takes, he is still 
iiiy God ; and seeing the wliole, while I see 
only in part, will always do better for me than 
I could for myself. 

Resolutions made at this time. 

To watch against my easily besetting sin. 

To read the w ord of God with more med- 
itation. 

To lift up my heart to the Lord, whenever 
1 awake in the night. 

To encourage religious conversation in the 
family on ail fit occasions, particularly with 
my beloved Miss Futerell. 

To be more watchful and earnest in inward 
and ejaculatory prayer. 

To be much in prayer for my dear husband, 
and to endeavour, to be to him a useful as well 
as a loving wife. 

To endeavour to see the hand of God in 
every thing, and to undertake nothing with- 
out a dependance on, and a seeking of his 
blessing. 

Not to let a spirit of indolence get the bet- 
ter of me in the education of my children ; 
and in this matter, may God most especially 
help me; for I find when anything presses 
much on my mind, I am very apt to be list- 
less and inactive in the duty which I owe 
them. 



jh'ebniarii 3, 1799. So far as I know my 
own heart, I think I desire resignation to the 
divine will, more than I desire any earthly 
good. 1 have some temporal affairs pressing 
on my mind, and am hanging* on Providence 
for the events of the two ensuing days. Yet 
I trusts that a desire to live to God, and to 
grow in grace, are still greater anxieties with 
me, than any worldly concerns ; yet the Lord, 
who knoweth our frames, and considereth of 
what we are made, and is well acquainted 
with our different temperaments and consti- 
tutions, sees that I am not wholly deyoid of 
agitation ; but I trust, he also sees that it is 
-of that chastened kind, and in that degree not 
inconsistent with sincere piety, and trust in 
himself. Indeed I hope I may even say that 
I feel holy joy in God, and a thorough con- 
tiction that he will do all things well. Hith- 
erto lie hath helped me, and he will not now 
forsake me. He hath cared for my soul, he 
will not be unmindful of my lesser concerns. 
He hath prepared my heart to pray, he will 
surely hear my cry. 1 am so ignorant, even of 
what would be good for me, that it is my glory 
to put my trust in his wisdom ; so weak that I 
rejoice in his power ; so blind that I am thank- 
ful to be guided by him. If he chooses to 
grant that which I desire, to his praise shall it 
be recorded. If he wit^hhold it. still I will joy 
M my God, and be satisfied that it is just a's 



UIARY. 



17S 



it slioiild be ; only, O Lord ! while the sus- 
pense lasts, be pleased to keep me from un- 
profitable dejections ; to preserve me in an 
evenness of mind and cheerfulness of temper, 
becoming a christian, and worlhy a follower 
of the Lamb. Bless mv verv dear husband : 
point out to him the path of duty; make all 
his way plain ; bring* him through these 
worldly perplexities ; make me a comfort and 
blessing to liiBi and to his children, while my 
life is prolonged ; and so help him in his dif- 
ficultif»s and trials, that he may say, this is 
the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our 
eyes. Oh Lord ! I commit all to thee ; thou 
knowest my groanings ; thou seest my heart ; 
my trust is in thee ; my case is cast upon 
thee. I will hide me under the shadow of 
thy wings, until these calamities be overpast. 
Thy mercy hath been often experienced, it 
will not now fail me. What time I am afraid, 
I will call upon thee. In God is mv trust: 
in his hands are the b<?arts of all men. I 
will not then feai* what man can do. May 
he enable us to be just and upright to all, 
and not permit any to oppress and be hard 
to us, 

March 14, 1801. Oh, my God, I desire 
this day, not only solemnly to renew my 
covenant with thee, that covenant which has 
so long been all my salvation and all my de- 

P2 



sire ; but also to open my heart to tliose con- 
solations which it affords, and particularly at 
this time, as having all my concerns for time 
and for eternity in thine hands ; and to look 
up to thee for that direction which my cir- 
cumstances require, and which none but thou 
canst suitably give. As it is a time of per- 
plexity and difficulty with me, let it be also a 
time of faith and prayer. Known unto thee, 
O God ! are all my ways, and unto thee do I 
commit them. Let thy Providence protect 
me; let thy good spirit guide me, that in the 
issue of these events, I may see cause to ad- 
mire thy grace and goodness, and to add 
another Ebenezer to my past sweet expe- 
riences of thy fatherly care and overruling 
wisdom ; and to chide my heart, that it 
"should ever, for a moment, doubt thy com- 
passions, or despom! under thy merciful chas- 
tisements. Bless, O bk^ss my dear husband ; 
give him the light and direction which he 
needs ; be thou his strong tower ©f defence 
in every time of trouble ; enable me to be a 
comfort to him, dui'ing our joint pilgrimage 
on earth, and give us finally to be made par- 
takers of those eternal Joys, in the hopes of 
"which our light and momentary afflictions, 
by thy supporting grace, may be cahuly and 
steadily borne, so long as tliou shalt see meet 
to continue them. &\i Lord, who givcst lib=: 



MARY. 



irs 



©rally to those who ask, and (liai without iip- 
braidins;, give us the wisdom, prudence, and 
discretion so espcdully necessary to us in 
our present affairs. Help thou us, and so 
shall we be helped ; leave us not? neither for- 
sake us, for in tliee is our trust. 

March 5, 1802. On looking into this book, 
I see it is near a twelvemonth since I have 
noted in writing, any of the Lord's dealings 
w i(Ii me ; yet surely my heart, with grateful 
remembrance, looks back on many trials gone 
through ; on many mercies received. In all 
the perplexities of our situation, how good 
lias God beeUj not only to hold our souls in 
life, but to give the enjoyment of vigorous 
health to my dear husband and family, that 
^ve have neither had the additional expenses 
nor the additional anxieties of sickness to our 
other cares ; and in the midst of cares, how 
graciously have I been supported and assist- 
ed. In times of greatest need, how has God 
helped ! He has iirst, by Iris grace, helped 
me to a contented and cheerful mind, and 
then by his providence wonderfully supplied 
my returning wants. When I have hardly 
known how to turn under outward pressure 
and diflicuhy, and when all human refuge 
seemed to fail me, the Lord has shewn that 
he cared for me, and enabled me to pour forth 
tears of thanksgiving, after ray tears of suppli- 
cation* Nor will he now leave and forsake me* 



176 



DIARY. 



My faith and hope in him, are j^rounded on his- 
own precious words of promise, and my sweet 
and long experience of tlieir truth. My God 
has not taken care of me so long to leave mc 
to perish at last, either by my own folly, or 
by the hands of others. He will humble, be- 
cause it is for our good ; but in due time, he 
will lift me up again. Yesterday I was full 
of thought and care. 'No provisions in the 
house; sundry little domestic debts of abso- 
lute necessity to be paid. My dear friend 
and husband full of business in the way of his 
profession, but no money coming in. I was 
reading the Bible ; my mind wandered to the 
state of my finances ; and I thouglit with my 
house full of dear cJiildren, what am I to do ; 
I answered to myself, put your trust in God, 
try to make out, hj some exertion of your 
own, without perplexing your dear husband ; 
and even if some sharp pinching should be be- 
fore you, be satisfied to bear it; it will be for 
the good of your soul. What do you read 
your Bible for, but to fetch from it instruc- 
tion and consolation, suited to all your cir- 
cumsiances. Presently my husband called 
me and gave me a sum more than sufficient 
for the immediate wants of the day, and the 
payment of those domestic debts, which lay 
heavy on my mind ; saying, at the same time, 
^* this money has come from a most unexpect- 
ed quarter ^ indeed from a man who had even 



said be ^vouli1 not pay ; and now at this early 
lioui* of the morning, wlicn I was not think- 
ing of it, he has bronj^lit this money." And 
now let an infidel evdl this a lucky chance, if, 
when he had no money to provide for a large, 
family, an unexpected supply should come to 
Lis hands ; but let me fall down and worship 
before the Lord, and say^ Oh thou ! that 
hearest and answerest prayer, imto thee, in 
every necessity of soul and body, will I come. 
This is but one instance of manifold interven- 
tions of Providence which I have experienced, 
and which, although, not written down in 
books, are deeply engraven on my heart, and 
treasured up in my memory; and. Oh thou, 
who hast been pleased to provide necessary 
food for my family, vouchsafe also, to feed our 
souls with the bread of life. I trust to sit 
down tomorrow at thy table. Oh give the 
meat which endureth unto everlasting life ; 
enable me to feed by faith in my heart on the 
pi'ecious body and blood of my dear Redeem- 
er, the purchaser of every mercy, spiritual 
and temporal. Be also with my dear hus- 
band, on this sweet and solemn occasion; be 
with my dear Miss Futerell ; and, ahhough 
absent in body, may she have spiritual com- 
munion witli her dear Saviour, and with his 
people. Be with my dear children, dis- 
pose their ;>oung hearts to receive divine 
fiuth, and may ihey, by thy restraining prov- 



rs- 



DIAUY. 



Idence, and by an early conversion, be save<l 
from youllifiil follies, and made pillars in the 
temple of our God. 

June 1, 1803. Some sore disappointments 
have happened to ns in temporal matters 
Avithin a fortnight past, and from quarters 
most unexpected, especially by my dear 
husband ; but what then ; is the Lord's hand 
at all shortened, that it cannot save, or his 
car heavy, that it cannot hear? Oh no. Be 
pleased, Oh our gracious God ! to keep us 
from separating sins, and to enable us, by 
humble prayer and faith, to make our sup- 
plications known unto thee ; and then, though 
every door on earth should appear to he shiut, 
thou wilt open the very windows of Heaven 
in our behalf, and pour down blessings in 
such measure and manner on us, as shall be 
most for our good and thy glory. Lord, thou 
knowest how mournfully I am now sitting 
before thee ; but O ! let not earthly anxieties 
eat out the heart of spir'<^ual duties ; let not 
my poor soul starve, but feed me with the 
bread of life, however pinched, however per- 
plexed, however hedged up and uneasy my 
ways may be in other matters. Oh my 
Heavenly Father ! my past experience teach- 
es me to rely on thee. Thou wilt clear up 
this darkness, thou wilt dissipate this provi- 
dential cloud, and enable me to s^^y again^ 
the Lord hath helped me. Oh, give me re- 



DIARY. 



179 



s,Ignation and liunulity to wait thy time, ami 
be satisiicd with thy way. Oli help to main- 
tain a <'lieerl\il conversation before my dear 
liusband, that I may be a help and no hinder- 
ance to him. 

Lord, hear and lielp thy poor afflicted^ 
bowed down and (empcst tost servant, and 
make all these things work for good to my 
poor soul. 

June 5, 1803. Lord, how shall I praise 
Ihee; wherewithal shall I come before God, 
the God of my mercies. My soul is filled 
with thankfulness, and my mouth with 
j)raise. Oh now let my life be holiness, and 
let me remember the vows of the Lord, 
which are upon me in the day ; when I cried 
unto thee, thou heardest me, and sirength- 
enedst me with strength in my soul. When 
jiiy spisit was bowed down under the pres- 
sure of woi'ljlly affliction, thou hast supported 
lue, thou liast enabled me to east all my care 
on thee, and tisou hast le'ieved that care; 
in the houi* of extrenuty thou hast appeared 
for us, a!id when our way seemed hedged up 
with diiiiculJics:, thou hast manif«.sted thy 
gra/ious Providence, 'tid juade us to receive, 
as an es]U'cial answer to prayer, what, undiei* 
other circumstances, our thoughtless hearts 
jniglit have ret-eived as an occurrence in the 
co?nmop course of t!iings. Let this favour 
Beyer be obliterated fr ow my heart ', let i»e 



180 



DIARY. 



record it to tliy gloiy ami my cornibrt ; iinci 
when 1 look back on my last writing, and oti 
this let me feel ; truly God is good to Isiaei, 
and let me most earnesily desire to be up- 
right in heart. Lord, go on to help us ; to 
help my dear husband. Have we not only 
received earthly good at tliy hands, but have 
our souls also, been led with tiie bread of 
life, and our hearts made joyful wiJh the 
cup of salvation. Oh that iji the stirngth of 
such provision, we may go on our way with 
diligence and alacrity ; and seek to grow in 
grace, and to havi; our conversation as be- 
coraeth the gospel of Clirist. 

September 25, 1805. Pressed by care, sur- 
rounded by difiieulties, and in sore perplexity 
from some domestic cijcunistances, I come 
to thee, O my God, who hast commanded us 
to cast all our care on tliee, and to draw 
nigh to thee in every time of trial. To tiiec, 
O my Heavenly Father ! have 1 long since 
devoted myself, and I now desire to renew 
the dedication. To call thee my Father and 
to be submissive ; to call Christ my Saviour, 
and trust in his mercy; the Holy SpirU mj 
comforter, and to rejoice in his consolations. 
Lord, thou knowest all my desire, and my 
groaning is not hid from thee. Oh let my 
sorrowful sighing come before thee, and hear 
thou the prayer of the afflicted. In every 
e^ent^ O Lord, make m^ to remember that I 



DIARY. 181 

have sworn, and that I cannot go back, and 
that having chosen the Lord for my portion, 
and desired him above eartlily good, I must 
be satisfied with all that he appoints, and 
never murmur at what his will permits. 
Only, Lord, do thou be pleased to bear me 
up, for I have no strength to be resigned, 
except thou give it me ; therefore, I look up 
unto thee for that calmness and submission, 
which I desire to feel under every trying 
circumstance. Dark as my situation now 
seems, thou hast but to say, <* Let there be 
light," and there shall be light. Since it was 
not beneath thy condescension to create me, 
to save me, and hitherto to preserve me, it 
will not be beneath thy condescension, now 
to help me according to my necessities ; thou 
wilt either send relief^ or give grace to bear. 
Oh, give me humility to suffer what thou 
shalt appoint, and wisdom to know how to 
act according to the necessity of my situa- 
tion. Let thy Spirit teach me; let thy Provi- 
dence assist me, make me to know the path 
of duty, and diligently to walk in it ; suifer 
me not to grope about in darkness, nor to be 
a prey to the restlessness of my own spirit ; 
but give me some gracious directions to point 
out to me the right way of duty, and of safe- 
ty. Oh Lord, help me, for I am very weak; 
and my only hope and trust b ki thee. 



im 



BIARY. 



J^ovemher i, 1805. ** Be still and know 
thai I am God." I desire, O Loi'd ! lo be 
still, and to know that thou art God : so to 
know it as to he quiet before thee, and even 
to preserve a holy cheerfulness, seeing tlie 
same word whicSi proclaims tljj sovereignty, 
and commands our subnnssion, &ays also^ 
"God is our refui^e and strenglh. a very 
present help in trouble;" and surely I have 
often found thee so ; and now although my 
worldly concerns be not so as nature could 
desire, and every outward aspect is gloomy 
and cheerless ; yet let this be all my salva- 
tion, all my desire? all my comfort, that there 
is a covenant well oidered, and sure ; the 
God of the covenant an unchanging God. I 
therefore come, and bring my burdens to the 
foot of the cross. He who died for me, will 
never leave nor forsake me ; and in every 
event will order matters so as shall be best 
for my soul's salvation, which is always the 
greatest concern. In temporal things, what 
time I am afraid, I will trust in him ; I will 
make known to him by prayer and supplica- 
tion, my requests, with thanksgiving for past 
mercies, and a holy confidi^nce for what is ta 
eojne. I am now prepai'ing to draw near to 
his holy table in a few days. Let not earth 
keep out heaven ; let not spiritual duties be 
©raa^ped or spiritual joys hindered by anxious 
eares for this world. Fed by the bread of 



DIARY. IBS 

Tiftslet me l)c stronjj; to run my race orduty. 
or of sufUriM^; and (Irinkins; of the wine of 
heavenly eonsulalion. Jet njy sorrowful s^/irit 
be eonitbrted, and all my eoneerns be trusted 
Avitb him, to wliom with joy and eonlideuee 
1 have trusted my soul. The Lord can clear 
ihe darkest skies ; nothing is too hard for 
Omnipotence, Perplexed as ujy dear hus- 
band's affairs seem : hunible and painful as 
seem my own ; let the Lord birt speak, and 
he shall be relieved ; let him but order, and 
I shall be succoured. Do 1 know God to be 
so able, do I trust in him as my God, and 
shall r not be satisfied that his will will con- 
cur with his power, if it be right for ns. I 
desire to be so. Pardon, O Lord ! my sinful 
reluctances to bear the cross ,* and whenever 
my spirit is disposed to rebel, or murmur, 
give me such a view of my Hell deserving 
sins as shall keep me verv humble, and strike 
me into a holy silence before thee. Lord, I 
leave my wants and my desires with thee, 
and in my present great trials more cut off 
from outward comfort than I have ever been 
before, I desire to draw the nearer to thee, 
the all sufficient God. 

JS'oi'cmher 2, 180.^. <*ForI will remember 
mine iniquity, 1 will be sorry for my sin.** 
Forsake me not, O Loid, my God, be not far 
from me ; ** give ear unto my cry, and hold 
jaot thy peace at my tears." Our i^orldlv 



affairs are very iiuich perplexed. My dear 
husband is pressed by creditors, and disap- 
pointed by debtors. All these things pressing 
upon feelings, naturally irritable, and meet- 
ing with a constitution much enfeebled, make 
it very necessary, and very comfortable for 
Bie to draw near to God, the friend of the 
friendless, the hearer of prayer, the helper 
of the distressed. I desire at this time to 
draw near to him in a penitential confession 
of sin, and to have sin brought to my re- 
membrance. This I hope will be one means 
of mitigating suffering ; for now. Lord, after 
all that is come upon me, ** this is less than 
my iniquities deserve ;*' will keep down re- 
pining, and especially by considering that 
these chastisements may be the very means 
by which my Heavenly Father sees fit to 
keep me in ** the right way." Lord, I call 
upon thee for help in my outward trials ; but 
I desire earnestly, to seek deliverance from 
sin. Lord, help me to provide for my chil- 
dren, help me to teach them the way of sal- 
tation, and give them grace to seek it for 
theoi selves, and to devote themselves to God 
in early life. If thou permit me. Lord, to 
draw near to thy hol^' table tomorrow, I 
will carry with me my outward burdens, sor- 
rows, and wants ; I will cast them at thy 
feet. I will pray thee to support me under 
them^ to give me some suitable and con- 



DIART. 



11 U 



'venlent relief fioiii them, and say, "thou 
Avho feedest me with thy llesh, and eheerest 
me witli the wine of the covenant, wilt not 
refuse for me, and m^ liousehold, what shali 
be neediiil for us." J will also carry the 
heavy load of my sins ; I will sa;^, here Lord, 
is the cause of my sorrow, here was the cause 
of thy suffering. Oh thou, who hast carried 
our sorrows, and borne our iniquities, deliver 
me from this burden. Pardon the follies of 
my youth ; the sins of my riper years ; the 
hourly transgressions of my life. Let me 
never complain of the burden of suffering, 
while I remember my multiplied iniquities, 
but rather wonder at the Lord's grace, and 
long suffering, and admire his goodness, who 
by the chastisement of his love is driving me 
to Heaven, when by the strokes of his wrath, 
he might long since have driven me to Hell. 
tN*ovcm})ev 2^, I have been endeavouring, 
for some time past, to walk in penilentiai 
humility before God; and as it is a day of 
adversity with me to make a suitable im- 
provement of it, by making it also a time to 
consider. Blessed be God, that it lias been 
"with me a good time ; a time in which 1 have 
found it good for me to<lraw near to my God 
by contrition ; fori trust he hath drawn near 
to me in a way of mercy ; supported me ia 
outward trials ; and given me strong desires 

Q2 



1B6 DIAHY. 

after holiness. He hath also shown me provi- 
dential favours, and from day lo day sup'vlied 
our returnini;* wants, and smoothed some of 
my outward difticulties. My soul desires to 
praise him for tlie past ; to be satisfied for 
the present ; and to trust him for the future. 
He will not leave me, nor forsake me. 1 am 
iilled with self reproach, that having God 
for my Father, I should ever give way to 
gloomy ap])rehensions. Lord, I commit all 
to thee ; thou knowest my spiritual necessi- 
ties; thou knowest my outward pressures. I 
desire to be still, and trust in thee, my ever 
present help in time of need ; and with my- 
self 1 commit to thee, at this time, those for 
whom 1 am particularly interested. Help 
Biv dear husband. Bless mv dear children, 
present and absent, and others whom I desire 
now particularly to intercede for. Bless our 
ministers, and reward them for their faithful 
labours. May Dr. Keith enjoy the consola- 
tions with which he endeavoured to comfort 
mourners on the past sabbath. Help me at 
all times to trust in thee, and all times to 
praise thee ; and help me every day to do the 
buniness of tlie day, according to my best 
ability; and supply me by thy mercy with 
that measure of knowledge, improvement, 
and strength, which may enable n^e to do 
my duty in that state of life, to which thou 
art pleased to call me. 



DIARY. 187 

25t]i. Loi'd, ^vhatever else I want, let me 
not wani tiie joy of thy salvation ; if it be 
thy blessed will, let not my spiritual sky be 
darkened, but favour me wilh tlje light of 
tliy countenance. Under much outward trial, 
I have lived happily, and walked elieerfuiiy, 
because thy face did shine upon me, but I 
feel now under some spiritual dejection, some 
inward darkness. Oh my Father! if it be 
only for trial, and to teach me my de- 
pendance upon thee, I desire to submit, and 
to rejoice in the very hidings of thy face ; if 
they keep me humble, and train me up for 
jj^lory ; but I am afraid of sin. Search me, O 
Lord ! and try me, and enable me to try my- 
self, and to see if there be any allowed evil 
way in me, that I may resist it, and lead thou 
me in the way evei'lasting. liCt no uni*epent- 
ed guilt ; no cherished iniquity; no neglected 
duty cause thee to hide thy face iVoni me, or 
separate between my God and me. Oh, 
Lord! I cannot do without thee; thou hast 
called me to do without many that I loved. 
I have endeavoured to bow the head, :'?id 
bend the heart, and as the streams failed 
me, to drink deeper of the fountain. Great 
has been the trial, great the effort ; bni 1 
have leaned upon my God. I have supported 
myself against his cross, who for my sake 
was a man of sorrows, and acquainted Avith 
grief. Strengthened by him, I have borne 



im 



DIARY. 



my griefs, and without flagging, done the 
duties of my station; but if I have not the 
light of God's countenance, wo is me, I am 
undone. Lord, I cannot do without thee. I 
would not do without t]iee< Oh have mercy 
upon me, and whatever else thou withholdest, 
withhold not thyself. Pardon my sins, and 
give me grace against them. Be my God, 
and the God of mine. Bless my dear husband, 
and our dear children. 

None of them that trust in thee shall be 
desolate. Is this so ; why then are my hopes 
faint, and my spirit cast down within me ? 
Father and mother hast thou taken from 
me ; the grave covers the most of those with 
whom I kept up much intimacy; and various 
providences have changed the liearts of some, 
Avho yet remain. The conflict with aftliction 
is great; my husband is under trials and 
straits, which make my heart ache for him, 
and for myself, as tenderly feeling and shar- 
ing in all his griefs. My cliildren, though in 
many respects, sources of great delight to 
me, cause me also much anxiety for their 
souls, and for theii* future temporal welfare. 
The Lord hath said by his experienced ser- 
Tant, ** none of them that trust in thee, shall 
be desolate." Surely, Lord, 1 trust in thee, 
for soul and for body, for time and for eter- 
nity. Let me not then be desolate. Saw me 
f-rom all sinful anguish of spirit, and leave 



DIARY. ^ ^^ 



me not desolate. Thou wiU do all that is 
good for my soul. Oh let me be satisfied 
Avith whatever happens to the body ; it is at 
present a pained body, the companion of an 
anxious mind ; yet, Oh my God. I desire to 
say most sincerely, not my will, but thine be 
done. I trust in thee ; O leave me not deso- 
late. Help me to remember the days that 
are past, in which thou hast been my helper; 
and therefore still to shelter myself under 
the shadow of thy wings. Support niy droop- 
ing mind. Chase away sinful anxieties. Oh 
leave me not desolate, for renouncing all 
other hopes, and all other helps, t desire to 
trust alone in thee, who hast ten thousand 
ways, by which thou canst send help ; and 
yi'iih regard to troubled thoughts, hast but 
to say, peace, and they shall be still in every 
event, however painful to nature. Lord, thou 
knowest all my desire, and my groaning is 
not hid from thee. If this desire, and these 
groanings.are for things which may be profit- 
able for myself, and the persons concerned. 
Oh, for Christ's sake grant them ; but as I 
am weak, and sinful, and erring, let me cry 
fo!- nofhing importunatel\ but salvation. Sal- 
vation for myself, and for those who are near 
a!»d dear to me as my own soul ; and. Oh 
Lord ! let the joys and tl»e hopes of this sal- 
vatioFi. keep thy poor servant from being 
desolate. 



19^ DIAKY. 

Mdij, 1806. *• Lord, teaeli us to pray; and 
-^heii the liord teaches us to pray, wlmt a 
delightful asad lioSy employment is it ? liow 
is the soui supj-sorled, streu^^tliened, com- 
forted, by thus drawinj^ nigh to God, with a 
prepared heart. Teaeli us. Lord, to pray ; 
by tliy i^i'ace, this shall be the prayer of 
faith. Teach us to pray by thy providences; 
this shall be the prayer of humble depend- 
ance on God, and quiet submission to all his 
appointments. When troubles assail us, tliis 
is the time to pray ; for God has promised to 
answer those who call upon him in the time 
of trouble. Teach me then. Lord, to pray 
without ceasing, in the house, and by the 
"way, at times of leisure, and in the midst of 
business; and having my heart softened, com- 
forted, and quieted, by often drawing nigh 
to thee ; in the midst of adverse circum- 
stances, inward conflicts, and outward trials, 
may my soul still find its happiness in thee, 
and never yield to unchristian dejection or 
complaining. , 

" Ye are the lights of the world." If this 
is said of Christ's disciples in general, how 
defectively must they walk, who are not at 
least the light of their own liimilies. Oh my 
God, give me grace so to walk before mii^e, 
as to bring no reproach, on the gospel, which 
I profess. Let my dear husband iind in me 
a christian friend ; my children, a faithful 



DIARY. 



LOT 



instructor, reprover, ami guide ; and all oT 
my liouseliold, while tliey \vitness my imper- 
fections, \vitness also my faith, my hope, my 
sincerity, my desire, and endeavour to >valk 
uprightly. 

Tuesday, Oh, thou ^vho givest songs in 
the night, be pleased in the midst of gloomy 
fears, and providences of distressing aspect, 
to give me a holy cheerfulness in thee, and 
the assurance of faith, that after thus long 
lielping, thou wilt not now leave me. Salva- 
tion is of the Lord ; the salvation of the soul, 
and the necessary supports for the body ; my 
trust then shall he in the Lord for both. 
Fulness of grace is wijii Christ, for the poor 
soul ; and for the supplies of the temporal 
life, the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness 
thereof. Suffer me not, therefore, O ! my 
God, to despair or hardly to doubt while 
there is liberty of access to the fountain of all 
sufficiency ; a fountain from which my soul 
has often been refreshed with liberal streams, 
and my bodily necessities supjdied in surpris- 
ing times and ways. Oh, that these remem- 
brances and a firm trust in God might keep 
me calm and submissive under the troubles 
which now assail me. Oh that the thoughts 
©f death, wliich, from the many warnings 
I receive, ought to be always present with 
me might so engage my attention and desire 
to gird up my loins and to trim my lamp a^ 



192 ^ DIARY. 

to serve as a counterbalance to the anxieties 
"which possess my soul ; yet in some respects 
I ought to be anxious, seeing the cause of 
my anxiety is not so much for myself, as for 
those connected with me ; but then I would 
have this anxiety, instead of drinking up my 
spirits, keep me near to God in prayer, for 
]iis help, to enable me to help them and to 
do every day with diligence the duty of the 
day. My Heavenly Father, my Father in 
Christ, I cast myself on thee, and now that 
J. am afraid, I call upon thee. 

** And be ye not of doubtful mind." These 
are the very words of Christ himself, and in- 
clude, I think, both a command and promise. 
Lord give me grace to observe it as a com- 
mand, and to rejoice in it as a promise ; for 
in the keeping of thy commandments there 
is great reward, and thy precious promises 
are the sure support of mourning souls. In 
what trouble hast thou ever failed me ? 
Creature comforts, earthly dependencies, 
have failed me ; but thou hast ever been to 
me the faithful God ; the helper of the help- 
less ; my refuge in every new distress. Mul- 
tiplied have been my distresses for some 
years past, and with much ado have I labour- 
ed not so to give up under the pressure of 
affliction as to be a dead weight to my hus- 
band, and useless to my children. Great has 
been God's mercy to enable me to struggle 



DIARY, 



19i 



without repining, a* id with a heavy load at 
heart to preserve a cheerful countenance, 
and live an active lite ; now my troubles seem 
heavier upon me than usual, my heart niore 
sick, my bodily strength uiore impaired, and 
now it is that I desire not to be of doubtful 
mind. How many limes has the Lord helped, 
in days of great distress, and is his hand at 
all shortened ; is his power lessened, is he 

not the same vesteidav. to da> and for ever ? 

* »■ • 

Be still, then, my sorJ, an(5 banisii doubl and 
unbelief. I am a poor changing creature ; 
often returning to sin and folly, often de- 
clining from the steady path of holiness, and 
often from the sure and comfortable patli (»f 
quiet wailing upon God ; but lie is the Lord, 
and changeth not ; he abideth faithful and 
cannot deny himself. My trust is in las 
mercy, not in my deservings. Tiierefore v- slh 
all the burden of my care I cast myself on 
him, with all the perlurbHlions of a \u\nd 
open to his all seeing eye. I bow at his mcacy 
seat, and humbly trust that makine; knoun to 
him all my wants by prayer and supjjiica- 
tion, not forgetting thanksgiving for sup]H>rt 
under past sufferings and resignaliori under 
present trial. Tiie Lord will provide, not f;>r 
me alone, but for those nearer and dearer to 
me than myself. Lord, be with my dear hus- 
band and children. Known unto thee are 
R 



154 



MARY. 



llRMr respective tempers and necessities. 
Send mercy suited to each. More especially 
may thy converting grace be with the chil- 
dren, and whatever else awaits them, in this 
Yale of tears, let their souls live before thee. 
Is any thing too hard for the Lord? No ; then 
if I am not helped in my present emergency, 
not the Lord's power, but his will will be the 
cause that I am not. Be still then, my soul ; 
be still. He is God Almighty ; and his will 
shall concur with his power, if it be for thy 
good. Lord, I am tempest tossed, agitated, 
turmoilcd, hardly able to bear up under the 
lieavy load of expected trial, nor could I m 
my own strength. 1 tlicrefore turn to thee 
my Cod and Saviour, and earnestly crave 
tliy help. Support nty mind during the anx- 
ieties of suspense, and fit me for which soev- 
er way thy will shall be pleased to manifest 
itself. The imbelieving loi*d said '•If the 
Lord would make windows in heaven might 
this thi!jg be." But I know, O Lord, that 
if tiiou wilt but speak it shall be done, and 
this trial shall pass from me. All hearts arc 
in thy hand ; the heavens above and the earth 
beneath are thine. Thou hast many ways 
more than we can imagine, by which relief 
may come ; and I desire to have faith in God, 
and to trust in his providence, to appear for 
me, in this time of great perplexity and pain- 
ful anxiety; but I desire, O Lf^ul, aJso lo be 



DIARY. 195 

submissive, and to bear tbc trial, if it must 
come, like a christian, and to do all I can to 
soften it to those about me by my gentleness, 
my cheerfulness, and inj huunlity. Yet tiie 
Lord not only does not forbid, but he allows 
us to call upon him in the time of trouble ; 
now, then, () Lonl, 1 lift up my eyes, and I 
stretch on( my hands unto thee. Open some 
door of hope, some door of relief. In tins 
our time of great necessity, exercise thy for- 
bearance and thy compassion ; and although 
in all that Ave feel, and all that we fear, thou 
dost punish us less than our iniquities deserve, 
add, tliis, O liOrd, to thy many manifesta- 
tions for us in times of difficulty, that the rod 
AvSiich hangs over our head, may by thine in- 
terposing providence, be removed. Oh, for 
christian composure; Oh, foi* a childlike sub- 
mission, a calm and humble frame, or that, 
at least, inward conflict may not unfit me for 
outward duty. Lord, J leave all witli thee, 
and that in the name of Christ, the only way 
to the Father, and the only medium of mercy, 
"whether spiritual or temporal. 

Mcnj *, 1806. The providential mercy of 
God did again interpose for us, and the ser- 
vants whom we feared to lose, and who fear- 
ed to lose us, are still in our possession, and 
under circumstances wliich give us reason to 
hope that they will still continue in oui* ser- 
Tice, and in their comfortable situations. 



'^96 IDIARY. 



^oremher. *«I will siag unto the Lord a new 
son.^- for he hatii done wondcrfyl thin^i^s for 
me." Yesterday was a diiy of peeiiliar\veak- 
ness of body with me, aid my mind was also 
much atfecied. 1 attended 'the funeral of 
Mrs. Nowell, in whom I had eonsiderable in- 
terest; saw my old friend. Mrs. Bi'ailsford, 
in considerable suffering, and had a meeting 
vith M;s. Joseph Ramsay, for the first time, 
siiiL-e the deaili of her two daughters. 

On tiic evening of this day, Deeember 31, 
1806, 1 also received a mercy, an answer of 
prayer, almost next to miraculous, a sum of 
money exactly suited to a particular engage- 
ment I had entered into for the first of Jan- 
uary, with more of trust in the Lord than of 
oa.vvard certainty about it. This sum of 
money coming to me so unexpectedly, with 
regard to the quarter from whence iVeceiv- 
ed it, overcame me perhaps even more than 
some afflictive circumsCances have done; for 
I felt as if I had no strength renraining in me, 
and as if I should faint and die from the 
mii'glr^d <'jiH)tions of surprise, gratitude, and 
awe. i>h. let ihe Lord's nasne be praised, 
aul let all that is within me bless his holy 
n. me. I have waited on the Lord, by hu- 
miijation. by fasiin.«^. by prayer, and let this 
isistaiice of his goodness, added to so many- 
others, en CO! I rage me still to wait upon him. 
I am in great perj>lexity, in many respects, 



DIART. ^^^ 

and in many respects a woman of a sorrowful 
spirit ; but I will cast my burden on the 
Lord, and trust that lie will bolp and direct 
me in all my way ; and particularly assist 
me, and give me the leadinj^s of bis provi- 
dence, and the teachings of bis Spirit, in 
"wbat lies before me. 

June 2, 180S. My dear husband, wlio is 
certainly a true believer, and a great noter 
of Providence, having received two dollars 
from a casual patient, said to me. ** here are 
two dollars which I have just got by chance." 
I said, thank ye ; but don't, at this time, 
when we arc in such want of money, say that 
any comes by chance. He smiled with his 
usual kindness, and said, I only meant lliat I 
got it from a passing and not a stated patient. 
About two hours after he sent me up twenty 
dollars, just after I had been earnestly pray- 
ing tliat the Lord from the storehouses of his 
mercy, would send some supply to my neces- 
sities and those of my family, which were 
very great, and covering the twenty dollars 
was the enclosed paper,^ which I will keep 
with this note on it, to remind me of the great 
goodness of my God, and this his most sea- 

* The enclosed paper, covering the twenty dollars re- 
ferred to, contained these words; 

"Twenty dollars, not sent by chance, but by God. Au 
vinespccted volunteer payment ot'a doubtful old debt." 

R 2 



.98 



DIARY. 



sonivble answer to lliose prayers and suppli- 
i^alioiis, which 1 was makinj^ beibre him, 
■with thanksgiving, for past mercies and hum- 
ble trust in his goodnessj througli m^ dear 
Saviour's merits, for the relief of my tempo- 
ral wants or the supplies of his grace to keep 
me quiet and humble, under losses and crosses. 
June 20 f 1808. It is of the Lord's mercies 
we are not consumed, because his compas- 
sions fail not. At about ten o'clock last 
night, w!iile the wind was blowing tempestu- 
ously, from a threatening thunder storm, but 
witliout rain, the cry of tire from our next 
neighbour's was given, and thi'ew our whole 
street, but particularly our family into great 
consternation ; the wind high, our house of 
wood, and joined to that where the fire was 
said to be. There was every thing to alarm 
lis that there could be in a matter of that 
nature ; from the ciies and tumult so near 
lis, and nothing left to do but to call on the 
God, who has so often been our helper, and 
to make what haste we could to save our lin- 
en, and most portable articles, before the 
confusion and heat would become too great* 
God, who is rich in mercy, has been better 
to us than our fears, and we remain here 
sheltered from inclemencies, a collected fam- 
ily, with every thing about us as it was be- 
fore the alarm. The fire was not at Mrs. 
Crawley's, but at the adjoining tenement, 



DIARY. *^^ 



whicli yd is under the same roof with lier. 
From the di-y situation of these wooden build- 
ings, with their appertenances, nothing but a 
timely discovery, before the fire had arisen 
to a great height, and while the neighbour- 
hood was yet up and awake, could, in a hu- 
man point of view, have saved the three 
ivooden houses, so nearly connected. How 
great then should be my gratitude, that where 
the wit and strength of man, in less than fif- 
teen minutes, could have availed nothing, the 
mercy of our God has prevented the awful 
calamity, and allowed us to sleep in peace 
and safety, after such a threatening destruc- 
tion. May the recollection of this goodness 
keep my heart quiet and submissive under 
the various cares that, at present, torment 
It, and while I am excited to labour diligently 
in my family and station, whatever anxieties 
assail me, may this, and the many other gra- 
oeious providences I have experienced, silence 
my fears, encourage my hopes, and enable 
me to go on, trusting in that God who at all 
times lias cared for me, ami will not now 
ieave or forsake me. 



APPENDIX, jS°. YI. 

lETTERS FROM MRS. RAMSAY.* 



*< On Sundays I always think of you more 
earnestly than on o(her days. All that re- 
gards you regards me ; hut what regards 
your religious concerns deejdy interests me. 
I hope, my dear child, in the midst of busi- 
ness or pleasure, never forgets that she is 
born for eternity ; never omit praying to God ; 
and if you would live safely or happily, never 
content yourself with the devotions of the 
morning or evening ; but often, in the course^ 
of the day, send up the prayer of the heart 
to God. This maybe done in company; in bus- 
ini'ss; in t!te midst of innocent pleasure; and is 
a delightful exercise of the heart, and a great 

* As Mrs. Ramsay did not keep copies of her letters, a. 
seleclioti could only be made from the originals in her do- 
inestic circle Others who are in jiossession of her letters 
will confer a favour by furnishing the Editor with copies. 
The following effusions of the heart are extracted from ex- 
temporaneous letters written by her to her daughters, whea 
only absent, for a few days, on short excursions to the coun- 
try, in the vicinity of Charleston, and are without date or 
address. The subsequent letters being dated and addressed, 
speak, for lliemselves. Editou. 



LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, 8.c 

-"iiard on the conduct. Oh, how liappy sliould 

ihe, to have you, my dtviliiii;- chiUl, thus to 

live in the fear of the Lord all the day long. 

<» I suppose you will keep church at home, 
as it does not look Aveather ilt for travelling. 
i always think of you Avith more than com- 
mon tenderness on Sundays. I thmk the se- 
rious ohservation of the Sahbath, is not 
enough attended to, even among professing 
famities ; but, in other cases, it is often a day 
of the greatest folly, because a day of the 
greatest leisure. In proportion as a respect 
for that day, and its institutions are neglect- 
ed or carelessly attended to, in the same pro- 
portion, will the religious principle decline, 
and the practical concerns of eternity be 
careless! V managed. As a parent, then, full ot 
anxiety for my children, in every respect, but 
most of all for their eternal interests, I can- 
not but regret every Sunday, Avhich I think 
they spend in a manner not the best calculat- 
ed to promote those interests, and leel it my 
duty to warn you never to forget, that, the 
Sunday is not common time, and according to 
existing circumstances, to do all that you 
prudently can, not only to observe it yourself, 
but to make a conscience of not being asham- 
ed of such observance." 

<* God bless you my dear child ; may you 
all love your dear fatber ; love me ; love dear 
Miss Futerell J love one another. While the 



202 LETTER FROM 5IRS. RAISISAY, 

soeSal afTiHtioris ihn^ fill your hearts, you 
M ill nevt'r be very bad children ; but the 
niorsjent you perceive youi'self deficient in 
t]iese sacred feeliugs, dread (he encroach- 
nie?]ts of vice, in some form or other ; iiiake 
a sfdt'iiri r)ause, and a^k vourself, what am I 
a?)o?it ? Wliere is my conduct tending? and 
pray to God to j^uide your feet into the right 
way by keepini^* youi' lieart fi-om evii." 

** As t]ie ehh^st, I vvrife to you, to entreat 
you to remember J he hiws of hospitality, and 
be kind to Mr. Montgomery, ^^ to remember 
the laws of gratitude, and be assistant to 
your very dear and valiiabJe fi-icnd. Miss Fu- 
tereil. A great deal, my child, depends on 
your good example ; on the observation 
w hich the younger children make ; whether 
you curb your temper; whether you begin 
wisely to observe those laws of self dertial, 
whicli will make you happy to yourself^ and 
ph'asant to those about you. I persuade my- 
self I sliall hear good accounts of you. If I 
do of you, 1 shall of all the rest." 

•• I beg you never to make any excuse for 
writing badly to me, because the time spent 
in wfititi'^ the excuse would have enabled you 
to do better Besides, errors excepted, you 
really write a pretty letter, and 1 delight to 
hear from you." 

* \ sick voii'.o- f>'-ntU>rn5m, who came to Charleston for 
his healtli, but died at iiaitiiuoie, on liis return home. 

Epitor. 



TO HER ELDEST DAUGHTER. 203 

« Mrs. P. has joined the eJuireli ioday, and 
I believe anotliei* sister of Mrs. P. llapj>y 
tliose, who, in afiiiction, look io the Loid to 
be their comforter, and do not slight his chas- 
tisements, by renewing their pursuits after 
happiness in a workl where it never can be 
found ; but so far as we improve it. as a s?ale 
of preparation for a better state of existence^ 
and then its prosperities will not dehide us, 
and its very tribulations shall give us a cause 
for rejoicing.'- 

" I have felt more about P. and E. today 
than the rest of you. Such Sabbaths as they 
now are passing would, without great care, 
soon tend to weaken in their minds. theobJiga- 
tion to keep the Sabbatli day lioly. Such Sab- 
baths as you are passing would impress on 
your minds the necessity, when we are dis- 
tant from places of public worsliip, for call- 
ing our families togetlier. and beseecJiing 
God, by his presence to make our houses 
sanctuaries for his service." 

** I felt it very solitary in church on Sun- 
day without you. But we had excellent ser- 
mons. I did not go out any where ; and rmt 
having my morning bible readers, my noon- 
day catechumens, or m^^ evening hymnists. I 
had more than usual leisure to read and pray 
for uiyself, which includes evei'y one witli 
you ', and I tried to make a good use of it*'* 



204 tETTER FROM MRS. RAMSA^ 

« I am very iiiucli niortifiecl at being de- 
prived of the lioi'se when I most want him. 
But what wise person ever frets, and what 
fool ever mended any thing by so doing. I 
shall comfort myself by saying, " if I do not 
go out, 1 shall do the more work at home." 

" Mrs. H. is dead. These breaches in our 
congregations are felt by those, who know 
the value of religious characters ; and make 
them earnestly pray, that others, from amon^ 
our young [)€oplc, may be raised up in their 
place, to keep up the honour and credit of" 
religion in the world, and to set an example 
to those who shall come after them. 

" Poor Mrs. S. is very much burnt ; poor 
little S. scorched ; but you will be shocked 
when you come to learn the particulars and 
know how near the}' were perisiiing. What 
a lesson never to sleep without committing 
our souls to God in Christ ; for we can never 
know in which world we shall' awake." 

" I dont know whether you have read Rob- 
ertson's America. In this doubt, I have sent to 
the library for Anquetil, or the first volume of 
KoUin, an author who, although prolix, and in 
some degree credulous, ought by all means to 
be read, I could w is!i you, before you proceed 
mucli farther in history, to read Priestley's 
Lectures on that subject, which I think you 
will find very useful. Bear always in mind, 
Miat lie is a Sociiiian ; i\H' liis principles tijic- 



TO HER ELDEST DAUGHTER 



20: 



tiirc every thing he ^vrites. PioUt by his 
science, >vhile you lament his errors in divin- 
ity, and hang on tlie only liope of everlasting 
life set before you." 

" I send Plutarch, and would have sent 
some other very pretty books, if it had not 

been for your prohibition. So will not 

write to me ; I must tell him, Mr. Richard- 
son places the writing of his three most suc- 
cessful and admired works, to his having been 
employed, when under eleven years of age, 
to write letters for some young ladies to their 
friends and admirers. I am afraid at the 

rate goes on, we shall never see a Pamela 

from his hand." 

On the Sunday preceding the pulling down 
the old white meeting, to erect in its place 
the present circular church, an appropriate 
sern»on was preaclied by Dr. Ilollinshead. 
The circumstances of the case, were stated 
in a letter, from which the following extract 
is made ; ** Some foolish girls laughed at the 
parting sermon. Sonie feeling ones cried, 
and many of the old standards were very 
much affected. I was among this number; 
but my feelings were rather pleasurable than 
otherwise ; for I confess the pulling down a 
decaying edifice, to build a more convenient 
and handsome one, made me think of the 
pulling down of the decaying body of a saint, 
by death, to build it up anew, without spot 



206 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, 

or blemish ; and altlioiigh Na<u!*e feels some 
regret at parting with our okl bodies, as well 
as with our old churches, it is a regret chas- 
tened with a cheerful and glorious hope of a 
resurrection unto life eternal; but this is a 
very serious letter for such joung correspond- 
ents ; yet, I hope not more serious than tlieir 
well informed mind will relish on a serious 
occasion." 

On the departure of Miss Futerell for Eng- 
land. " If you don't all feel very sorrowful, 
J pity you ; if you do all feel very sori'owful, 
I pi(y you. Yet I wisli you all to be sorrow- 
ful, for it is in oui* circumstances a sacred 
duty as well as a tender feeling ; and to you 
young ones, may be an initiatory lesson on 
the vanity of human life and human hopes; 
and teach you to set your hearts there, 
where true and unchanging joys are only to 
be found." 



TO HER HUSBAND. 



2or 



EXTRACTS OF A LETTER FROM MARTHA LAURENS RAM- 
SAY, AVFvl T TEN NINE DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF HER 
t FATHER, TO DR.iDAVID RAMSAY, AT COLUMBIA. 

Charleston^ December 17, 179'2. 

MY VERY DEAR HUSBAND, 

You have doubtless beard, by tbis time, 
that I am fatherless, and will feel for me in 
proportion to the great love you have always 
shown me, and your intimate knowled.i^e of 
my frame, and the love I had for my dear 
departed parent. Never was stroke to an af- 
fectionate child more awful and unexpected 
than this has been to me. I had heard from 
my dear father, that he was somewhat indis- 
posed, but not confined even to the house ; 
however, last Tuesday and Wednesday week 
I was seized with so inexpressible a desire to 
see him, that nothing; could exceed it. and 
nothing could satisfy it. but the going to see 
him. Accordingly, on Wednesday noon, very 
much against my family and personal con- 
v<-iience. I set out with faithful Tira and lit- 
tle Kitty, and slept that night at Mrs. Loo- 
co^k's; the next morning it rained, but I 
coM^d not be restrained. I proceeded to 
JMen'^in. and arrived there at one o'clock, 
Avet lo the skin. I found my dear father in- 
disposotl, as I thought, but not ill. He con- 



yOS LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

versed on indifferent matters ; seemed very 
much delighted with my presence ; told me 1 
was a pleasant eliild to him ; and God woidd 
bless me as long as I lived ; and at twenty 
minutes before eight o'clock, reiired to rest. 
The next morning, at seven o'clock, I went 
to his bed side ; he again commended my 
tenderness to him, and told me he had passed 
a wakeful night | talked to me of Kitty and. 
of you ,* had been up and given out the barn 
door key, as usual. At eight I went to 
breakfast. In about ten minutes I had des- 
patched my meal, returned to him, and 
thought his speech thick, and that he waver- 
ed a little in his discourse. I asked him if I 
might send for Dr. M'Cormick ; he told me 
if I desired a consultation, I might ; but that 
he had all confidence in my skill, and was 
better. I asked him why his breathing was 
laborious ; he said he did not know, and al- 
most immediately fell into his last agony; 
and a bitter agony it was ; though, perhaps, 
he did not feel it. At ten o'clock, next day, 
I closed his venerable eyes. Oh, my dear 
husband, you know how I have dreaded this 
stroke ; how I have wished first to sleep in 
death, and therefore you can tell the sorrows 
of my spirit ; indeed they have been, indeed 
they are very great. I have been, and I am 
in the depths of affliction; but I have never 
felt one murmuring thought j I have never 



TO HER HUSBAND. ~^'^ 

iitterrd one imirmiiring word* Who am I, a 
poor vile wretch, that I should oppose my 
will to the will of God, who is all wise and 
all j^raeious ; on the contrary I have heen 
greatly supported ; and if I may but be fol- 
ioNving Christ, am willing to take np every 
cross, which may be necessary or profitable 
for me. I left Mepkin at one o'clock on Satur- 
day, as soon as the body of my dear parent 
was decently laid out. and T was suificiently 
composed for travelling. I know, by infor- 
mation, that the awful ceremony^ was per- 

* This refers to the burning; of the body of Mr. Henry 
Ltuu-ens, which his dnnghtcr well knew had long been re- 
solved upon. She had also resolved, that she would neither 
be a witness of the transai-tion, nor in the vicinity ofihe 
place where what she calls "the awful ceremony" was to 
be performed ; and therefore, came away, very soon !>fter 
the hotiv of her father was decently laid out, and before 
til : funeral pile was constructed. Filial duty constrains the 
editor to observe that this transaction has been grossly !;.is- 
represented bv American authors, who ought to have 
known better ' The Rev. Biographer of WashingtOM, goes 
out of his wav to mention that, when Henry Laurens, 
president of the first congress, came to die lie said, |^' My 
flesh is too good for worms, 1 give it to the flames lu 
Kingston's new. American Biographic Dictionary, printed 
at Baltimore, in tSlO. it is asserted that " Henry Laurens 
directed his son to burn his body on the tljird day, as the 
sole condition of inheriting an estate of sixt\ thousand 
pounds sterling." Both these statements are incorrect. 
There wss no forfeiture^ »ior any penalty whatever, annex- 
ed to the noM ]>eriormance of the will of Henry Laurens, 
rel;>.tive to the burning of his body. It was simplv ei.joined 
asadutv The motives to his determination, for having 
his body burnt, are also mistated. Mr. Laureas often 
S2 



2 ^ ® LETTER FROM MI^S. RAMSAY 

formed last Tuesday. I have never been able 
to write till this day. Our dear children are 
well. Eleanor conies to my bed side, reads 
the Bible for me, and tells me of a heavenly 
country, where there is no trouble. Feeling 
more than ever ray dependanee on you for 
countenance, for support and kindness, and 
in the midst of sorrow, not forgetting to 
thank God that I have so valuable, so kind, 
and so tender a friend ; 

I remain, my dear husband, 

Your obliged and grateful wife, 
Martha Laurej^s Ham say. 

spoke of his preferring the incineration of the dead to their 
inhumHtion. His reasons were a belief that several persons 
•were buried before they were irrecoverably dead. This 
opinion was perhaps strongly impressed on his mind from 
what happened to his own daughter, the subject of tiiese 
memoirs, as related in the beginning of this work. He 
dreaded, as infinitely worse than certain death, the possi- 
bility of life returning to him when shut up in a bo\ in the 
cold ground, so far below its surface as to be out of the 
reach of all human help. He also, consistently with scrip- 
ture, entertained high ideas of the purifying nature of fire, 
as separating all dross and defilement from the substances to 
which it was applied. " And I will bring the third part 
through thejire, and will refine them as silver is refined, 
and will try them as gold is tried." Zechariah, xiii. 9. 
"He is like a refiner's fAX, and like fuller's soap " Maluchi 
iii. ,?. Editor. 



TO MRS. KElTli. ■*' *■ ^ 



IIXTRACTS FROiVI A LETTER WRITTEN BY MRS, RAMSAY 
TO MRS. KEITH, WHEN TRAVELLING IN THE NOR- 
THERN STATES WITH HER HUSBAND, THE REV. DR. 
KEITH. 

Cluir-leston, September 3, 1808. 

MY DEAR MPS. KEITH. 

As my letter is only meant to express the 
feelings^^of my heart iW Dr. Keith and your- 
self, 1 request you will giveyourself no anxi- 
ety ahout answering it. I shall rejoice to 
hear of your welfare tlirough other channels^ 
and shall not expect any direct communica- 
tion, till the time when Providence shall re- 
turn you safely to your old habitation, and I 
shall again enjoy those intercourses of affec- 
tionate christian friendship, which have so 
often delighted and warmed my heart. 

Miss S. was so good as to allow us the 
reading of your very affocting letter, wherein 
you give an account of Mrs. Ws. renewed 
afflictions, and of your first meeting. She 
Iras, indeed, been closely disci jdined in the 
school of suffering ; and one cannot read of 
lier grief, but with a weeping eye ; but 1. 
think it was a kind Providence, that sent Dr. 
Keith to her just at that time, and T make 
no doubt, she will sing of this mercy, and I 
hope also of many others in the midst of the 
apparent frowns of her heavenly Father, and 
under the gracious, though for the present, 



21^ 



LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 



painful eliaslisements of Siis hand. I have 
teaderly jKirlicipated in the happy, and chris- 
tian meeting with Dr. Keith's relations, and 
in all the well merited respect and affection, 
>vhich you have received t!irou.u,!i all yoar 
journey, and I have heen proud in my heart 
to say, well, this is our n^inisier ; these are 
our friends ; in short, my dear Mrs. Keith, 
you have heen in all my thoughts, in all my 
prayers ; and no day has passed, that we have 
not spoken of you in the family more or less. 
Our city has heen most uncommonly healthy, 
and yet there have heen several remarkahle 
deaths, from which we may learn and fear, 
and be mindful of our blessed Saviour's ad- 
monition to^us, always to watch. Among 
these, may be numbered Mr. M. who, after 
a very few days warning, was, about a fort- 
nii>;ht ago, called from time to eternity. Bv 
his death, a new breach is made in a family, 
•which has lately experienced severe bereave- 
ments ; and yesterday, the remains of that 
picture of strength and health, J^v, B. were 
committed to their parent earth with great 
funeral solemnity, and amidst an amazing 
concourse of spectators. His illness was but 
of three days continuance, and I believe no 
apprehensions of danger were entertained for 
him, till within a few hours of his dissolu- 
tion. His youngest child had been ill for 
some time, and died about twenty four hours 



21' 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD. 



?fter its fiUhcp. May yoii, my very dear 
IVionds, continue to experience the guardian 
care of oav God and Saviour, tlirough the 
lemaindei- of youi- journey. May you be 
happy in liis presence ; and having enjoyed a 
full measure of temporal and spiritual bless- 
ings, may vou return safe and satis^ed ; you, 
nVy dear'Mrs. Keith, to a circle of fond rela- 
tives and friends, and you, my honoured 
pastor, to dispense again to your attaf^'^ed 
people, those instructions of >visdom ^^nd 
piety, with which they have been so often 
delighted and edified. 

From your aiFectionate friend, 

Martha Laurens Ramsay. 



The following letters were addvessed to Miss EhzabetU 
Brailsford hv her attached and aflectionate tnend, Mariha 
Laurens. Thev are without date, but from circumstances 
appear to have been written in Knglaud, and consequent- 
ly between the sixteenth and twenty sixth years ot the 
age of the writer.* 

MY DEAR B. 

What do you think of my begging your 
acceptance of a pack of cards ? Yes, I do. in- 
deed, and sincerely liope you inay under- 
stand so well how to manage them as to be 

* These letters are arranged in the order in which they 
tvere received. •k'„.^^„ 



214 



LETTER FIIOM MRS. RAMSAY 



a continual winner. Those who play with 
these cards, seek to gain, not lieaps of shining 
dust, but an inheritance incorruptibh*, unde- 
iiled, and which fadeth not away. O, may 
we learn wisdom from the children of this 
generation ; and not suffer their care for 
th'.ngs temporal to outdo ours for thinj^s 
eternal. See how tlie gambler j^ives up !iis 
time and talents, and neglects his sleep and 
meals to gratify his ruling passion : and shall 
we., who have so glorious an object to en- 
gage oa»* alFections, as the precious Saviour, 
and whose highest aim should be to love and 
serve him ; shall we, I say, fold our ai'ms in 
shameful inactivity and be content with our 
low attainments? May grace forbid, and may 
the desirable end in view animate our zeal, 
enliven our hearts, and stir us up to greater 
diligence. It often makes me tremble to 
bc'jokl the unutterable ardour with which 
worldly persons pursue their beloved amuse- 
ments, and with how much languor I follow 
him, whom I acknowledge as the sovereign 
of my heart, and possessor of my warmest 
passions. I reason with myself thus; surely 
he whom my soul loveth is infinitely more 
estirnable than the idol of these deluded 
mortals; and if I were as much in earn«'st 
in my pursuits as they are in theirs, I should 
act as consistently as they do. Then am I 
bowed down, and my spirits droop j sorrow 



TO MISS BRAILSFORD. 



21, 



overwholfns ine ; I go mournfully ; and am 
ready to cry out, I am no christian, no child 
of (iod, (ill the condescending Jesus speaks 
lliis comfortahle language to my soul. ** Fear 
not. thou tremhling woim. I am thy salva- 
tioji ; I have loved thee, and >vill love thee ; 
I hear thy groanings, and thy complaint is 
not hid from me. I hear the imperfections 
of thy hest services, as well as the guilt of 
thy worst sins ; thy restlessness, because 
thou lovest me no more, and desires to love 
me belter, shall be accepted as an evidence 
of tliy sincerity ; be not faithless, but believ- 
ing; pray without ceasing; and leave thy 
cause in my kind hands ; the men of the 
Moi'id have notliing to resist ; every thing 
co-oj)erates with their inclination, and, there- 
fore, is tljeir way for the present, easy. Thou 
hast mighty enemies to oppose, the lust of 
the eye, the hist of the flesh, and the pride 
of life are all in league with thy wickr d 
heai't against thee ; yet, fear not ; look unto 
me, the captain of thy salvation. Though 
thv foes be many they shall not overcon e 
thee; for 1 have undertaken for thee, and I 
Avill bring thee safely through. When these 
lovers of the worUl, having had tlieir good 
things, and enjoyed the portion which tboy 
have chosen, are shut out of my kingdom, 
then shalt thou appear with boldness in the 
glory of thy Lord; and having; passed tbrough 



216^ LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY- 

floods of eosillkd, and seiisof tiibulation, and 
thy robes being* wasbcd in the blood of the 
Lamb, tliou shalt no longer nioiirn thj frailty 
and lament thy deficienees; but for ever thou 
shalt serve me perfectly and enjoy me fully." 

O, may we no lon^^er be ungrateful to so 
kind a Master ; but ^vith our whole soul and 
strength, renounce the world and follow 
him ; may he shed abroad his love into our 
hearts, begetting love in us, and so captivate 
lis with his matchless beauty, that we may 
be cruciiied to the world and all its follies. 
Draw us, thou loving Saviour, and we will 
run afier thee. Reign thou the unrivalled 
sovereign of our hearts, and let nothing 
tempt our souls to wander from thee. O, 
feed us, day by day, with the bread of life, 
and let the heavenly food diffuse new vigour 
and alacrity through all our members, that 
thi!b strengthened and refreshed, we may go 
on liyjoicing in our way to Sion, and with 
holy transport praise continually the God of 
©ur balvation. 

I hope, Brail sford, you will excuse the 
length of this scribble. I have unwarily en- 
larged my liuiits, and I fear have trespassed 
on your patience ; but the adorable Redeemer 
and his pleasant paths are themes so de- 
lightful, and to converse with you, an em- 
ployment so agreeable, that I did not know 
how to Jay down my peu. 



TO MISS BRAILSFORD, ^^^ 



lUiink Mason deserves at least the appel- 
lation of a pious writer ; and tliough his stvle 
is by no means elegant, yet the sweet com- 
fort^nd scriptural instruction which many 
of his writjn.^•s contain, nrake them worlhy to 
he read by all those who are in pursuit not 
of the shadow but the substance. 

I should have no j^ood idea of any profess- 
or >vlio could not deiij^ht in a sermon, howev- 
er excellent, that w as not delivered with the 
embellishments of oratory, or like any book 
wliich was not dressed with the graces of fine 
language. A diamond, though unpolished, 
possesses intrinsic worth; and gospel truths, 
however expressed, are highly valuable, and 
will be relished by every sincere christian, 
even from the lips of the most unlettered 
member. 

I shall see you in about an hour's time, or 
perhaps sooner; till then, adieu. Receive tho 
most affectionate greetings from yours, 

M. Laurens. 



Till now, my dear girl, I never knew how 
much I loved you ; the loss of your company 
pains me exceedingly, and 1 lament your ab- 
sence with unfeigned r, gret ; from" my first 
acquaintance I have been attached to you, and 
1" 



^18. 



liETTER FROM INIRS. RAlSISAY 



every month has beheld you growing in my 
esteem ; but in the last week which I spent 
•with you, you have entirely finished the con- 
quest, and impi'inted on my soul your beloved 
image, in characters so indelible, that neither 
time nor absence can ever erase them. How 
oficn since the 31st. of July have I wished 
fo?' my Brail sford ; never have I beheld a 
beautiful prospect, l;ut I thought with how 
much more pleasure I should enjoy it, if you 
Were with me, and with what satisfaction we 
should join in adoring the Divine hand, whicii 
so bountifully clothes the earth with elegance, 
and enriches it with [denty for the conveoien- 
©y and delight of undeserving man. 

As we are generally willing to believe what 
^ye wish. 1 cannot help thinking that my dear 
Eliza, feels for me in some degree, what I do 
for her ; and that I have at least some little 
part in her tenderest affection. 

I trust too, that our regard for each other 
is founded, on a noble basis ; and that united 
by christian bonds, our friendship will be eter- 
nal. I glory in an intimacy with one who 
seems so sincere a lover of the Lord Jesus, 
and with whose conversation I have been so 
often delighted and refreshed ; and the very 
thought of our treading together the narrow 
way that leads to bliss, rejoices me beyond ex- 
pression, llow much reason have I for thank- 
fulness, that at a time when my heart is pe- 



TO MISS BRAILSFORD. ^ ^ ^ 

fciiliavly softeiied, and 1 Irave an utter disrel- 
ish for alHvoildly company, L.od has biesHed 
Die with a friend, who \vill not despise me for 
an attachment to religion, but rather encour- 
age and assist me in my progress. I recol- 
lect with a mixture of joy and sorrow, some 
moments that we have spent together, when 
free from intruders, and could with plea&ure 
transport myself to the dear little room. 

Yet, dear friend, though mountains lie be- 
tween us, and a vast extent of land separates 
our mortal frames, do not our souls hold in- 
timate communion ! They do. 

Absent in body, not in mindj 
Our souls continue one. 

Shall I not add ; 

■While each to each in Jesus joined, 
We happily go on. 

If in Jesus, it must be happily ; what thougli 
fortune fail, friends forsake, and enemies 
triumph, let us walk together in Jesus. 

We cannot sinkAvitli such a pi'op 
As bears the world and all Uiings up. 

Oh ! Bi'ailsford. what unbelieving hearts 
must we liuve, if we ever distrust a gracious 
Providence, or indulge anxiety a moment. 
>Vho has u|)!jeld us from our mothers wornh^ 
and who preserved us in each changing scene 
of life from various dangers ? Who but the 



220 



LET PER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 



same God, wSio is still kind, and whose com- 
passion extends far beyond our utmost 
thoughts, far. far beyond our deserls. 

Let us not fear thetn, but confide in him 
\vhose promise never fails. The rock of 
uges is our security ; Jesus our advocate, and 
the Spirit our guide and comforter. 

Each trial and distress lo^es its unpleas- 
ing aspect, regarded as the messenger of 
good to our souls, as the mark of our adop- 
tion, and our privilege, as heirs of Heaven, 
In Jesus then let us still go on ; it will, it 
must, it cannot fail of being happily for us. 

To view him bearing his cross will sweet- 
en ours, and make it pleasant. He having 
finished his work, and gained the victory for 
lis ; as our forerunner he is gone to prepare 
for us places, infinitely glorious, and suffi- 
ciently deliglitful, to counterbalance every 
troublesome incident, and each difuculty we 
juay meet with in the rugged road of life. 



MY DEAR BRAILSFORD, 

It gives me great concern to be so long 
Avithout seeing you ; but as nothing save the 
"Weather prevents me, I w ill not complain ', for 
1 think to be angry with the weather is but 
an oblique iiiurmurinj^ against him at whose 
command the winds blow and the raiiis fall. 



TO MISS BRAILSFORD, 



22^ 



H hoped that your dear mamma's sph'its are 
not greatly depressed, and I especially trust 
that my dear Brailstbrdj to the honour of her 
christian character, exerts her every influ- 
ence in the. service, and to the comfort of this 
dear mamma, and that her very countenance 
tends to dissipate melancholy. Am I not 
saucy to dictate to you, who are far more ca- 
pable of instructing me? 1 hope you do not 
deem it so, since I mean not to teach, but 
merely, according to the sentiment of the 
Avise man, as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth 
the countenance of a man his friend, to speak 
freely to my much esteemed Eliza, and in 
compliance with the precept of the Apostle, 
^* to exhort her to love and good works ;'^ 
besides, my dear, it serves the double purpose 
of setting me on my guard ; for since the 
death of our pious friend, till the last evening, 
a thick gloom has hung around my brow , and 
very much unfitted nje for every relative duty; 
but prayer and reflection have taught resigna- 
tion, and blessed be God that it is with a 
degree of sweet experience that I sing^ 

Trials make the promise sweet, 
Trials give new life to prayer. 
Trials lay me at liis feet, 
Lay me low, and keep me there. 

To a blessed perfection are they indeed apr 
rived, who can number their sweetest mo- 
inenls among the times of their sharncs 

T 2 



222 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

trials; and who. in the deepest night of af- 
ilictjon, can rejoiee in the God of their sal- 
"vation. 

My highest ambition is to have my will 
lost in the will of a kind nnemng God; and 
under every dispe'jsation to lie as a submis- 
sive humble child at the feet of a compas- 
sionate father; to be made one witli Christ, 
and simply to follow the Lamb, whitherso- 
ever he leads, since we may rest assured if tat 
the end of the journey, a^d the kingdom into 
>vhich we shall enter, will sufficiesitly com- 
pensate for all the troubles of the way. 1 beg 
pardon, my dear friend, for having detained 
you so long ; but wlien once I begin a con- 
versation with you, I know not where to end. 
Burn, I beseech you, tiiis scrawl as soon as 
you have read it. My uncle and aunt, my 
dear friend, are neither of them well ; me- 
thinks 1 see your friendly bosom heave with 
sympathetic sorrow. I shall be particularly 
obliged to you for the archbishop of Cam- 
bray's Dissertation on Pure Love, and will 
take great care of the book. 

My love to your mamma and Susan, and 
believe me. 

Your ever affectionate 

M. Laurexs. 

You will rejoice to hear, my dear Brails- 
ford, that I have had the most abiding sense 



TO MISS BRAILSFOIID. 22 S 



of my own nolliinj^iiess, ami lived in the most 
hapnv nearness lei our covenant God and Fa- 
ther,^ever since 1 left Bristol. I don't know 
tliat I have been one day straightened m 
psaver, or backward to duty. " Hie candle of 
the/^Lord batli indeed shone brij-ht upon me, 
and the precious Saviour hath maniiVsled his 
pardoning love and merciful acceptance in a 
most wonderful manner to my soul. I had 
for a l(mg wliile before been walking in dark- 
ness and distress, longing for a return of such 
<lays, as I had once e.\])erienccd ; and crying 
mi m bitterness of s|>irit, O that it were with 
me, as in tinies ]ras(, that the shadows would 
disperse, ainl ihe reviving light break in upon 
my beni^^lited soul; at length I submitted 
myself wliolh to God ; acknowledged that 
hs's hand was'nol sliortened that he couUl not 
save, nor his ear heavy* that he could not 
liear; but it was my iniquities that had sep- 
arated beiween him' and my soul, and brought 
iiic thus low. I bowed at his feet, desiring 
to be fiUed with resignation, and enabled to 
declare him righteous in all liis ways, and 
jus? in all h.is Judgments, even though I should 
go mournlns^ all my<iays. I hated^ myself, 
because of all my vileness. and resolved, be- 
fore the Lord, that if I could not find com- 
fort i:i him, I would never, never seek it in 
anv thing besides. I set myself more dili- 
gently to read the word of God,- lived af* 



224 



LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 



much as possible in silence and retirement^ 
endeavoured unwaveringly to lix my eye upon 
a bleeding, loving, sin atoning Jesus ; and 
without ceasing, said unto him, for thy pas- 
sion's sake restore my comfort ; yet not my 
will, but thine be done. I would not follow 
thee merely for the loaves and fisbes, but be 
content to partake also of the wormwood and 
gall; and, 0, my dear B. when he had thus 
humbled m©^ made me to suffer for sin, and 
brought me to the foot of the cross ; he gave 
me in a moment that which he had so long 
withheld, and satiated my longing soul. From 
that time I liave been in a most desirable 
frame, day by day, enjoying sensible com- 
munion with him whom my soul loveth. and 
filled with abundance of heavenly consolation. 
My conscience has been made very tender, 
and I am more than ever fearful of grieving' 
the Spirit of God, and frilling into such a 
course of folly as shall provoke him to depart ; 
jet withal I have a thorn in my llesh, some- 
tliing to keep me from being puffed up with 
these large measures of comfort. Whenever 
pride begins to rear its head, and swell its 
liaughjy bosom, I think of that levity which 
tJnetures all my actions, ami makes my be- 
haviour oftentimes very unworthy the pro- 
fession of a christian. I am now striving and 
praying most earnestly against a trifling 
spirit, aad hope through tJie grace of God^ 



TO mSS BRAILSFORD. 225 

(hat my labour shall not be in vain in the 
liOi'd. From my iirst conviction I loved my 
bible, but it is now become most peculiarly 
precious to me. I esteem it indeed. *• as a 
bundle of myrrh, and a most delightful nose- 
gay." The contemplation of its divine truths 
engages me to live much in prayer; and 
the more I pray, the more disposed I find 
myself to search and study the scriptures. 
Assist me, my dear fellow traveller, to sing 
the praises of that Jesus, who has thus 
wrought wonders for me, and brought me out 
of great darkness into his marvellous light. 

Rejoice with me, that I, who am less than 
the least of all saints, and utterly unworthy 
the least drop of comfort, should be thus 
blessed with the plenteousness of God's love, 
and satislied with large draughts of living 
water. 

I was reading, a few mornings ago, the 3d. 
of Hebrews, a sd I resolved in my mind to 
mention it to you the first time I wrote; it 
jj^pears <o ine one of the most expressive 
paintings of the dreadful nature of an evil 
heart of unbelief in the whole bi!)le : and to 
contain enough to incite us to a continual 
j>raving. that tliat cursed sin may not hinder 
us fi'om entering into the rest prepared foi* 
the people ot* God. 



^26 XETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 



-MY DEAR BRAILSFORD. 

With regard lo our joiirnej, the hand of 
God, that kind and bountiful hand, which 
from the fn'st moment of our lives has been 
showering uj)on us innumerable benefits, was 
still over, and with us to guard and to guide. 
It was well worth being detained a few days 
in Bristol, to have the roads in the agreeable 
state which we found them ; and I think 
I may learn from henceforward never to 
murmur at any disappointment, but to believe 
that every particular circumstance is order- 
ed for some wise, and good end. I am hap- 
py to inform you, my dear aunt's amendment 
is answerable to our most sanguine expecta- 
tions. I hope that breathing this fine air for 
two or three months, will give her as much 
health as her delicate constitution will admit 
of. My dear uncle is in much the same 
state as Avh en he left you; friendship inter- 
ests itself in all the concerns of the beloved 
object, and makes its cares and pleasures her 
own ,' to you, therefore, there needs no apol- 
ogy for treating particularly on the health 
and affairs of my dearer halves ; on the con- 
trary, should I neglect them, you would be 
disgusted with my ingratitude and banish me 
from your esteem. 

From the window where I sit, I behold 
©loud topt hills and lowly vallies, rural cot- 



TO MISS BRAILSFORD. -^^^ 

t*agC3, and pretty chirping birds, wliicli form 
a pleasing variety to charm tlie senses, and 
till the licart of every susceptible creature 
with sentiments of love and gratitude to the 
beneficent Creator. Our parlour commands 
a view of the sea, and as the wind has been 
pretty high, I have had an opportunity of 
observing the awful works of Nature, while 
the swelling billows, with an angry roar, dash 
themselves against the submissive sand. 

I hope soon to see you in Teignmouth ; 
but should the decree of Providence appoint 
another lot for you, believe me, I shall ever 
be tenderly solicitous about your welfare; 
your temporal, but especially your spiritual 
concerns will ever lie near my heart, and I 
shall never cease to entreat a merciful and 
prayer hearing God, for the sake of our dear 
Saviour, to grant you abundance of grace, to 
strengthen you with might by his spirit in the 
inner man, and so to lead you here with his 
counsel, that hereafter he may receive you 
into those mansions of unfading bliss, which 
he hath prepared for every true believer. 

That the blessings of God may ever attend 
yau, is the constant wish and prayer of 
Your affectionate friend, 

M. Laurens, 



228 LETTER FROM INIRS. RAlsiSAY 



TO MRS, WILSON, NOW MllS. SIMONS. 

MY DEAR COUSIN, 

I SEND you the book, Doddridgfi's Rise and 
Progress of Keligion, which I promised, and 
Avliich I beg you will accept as a token of my 
affection. I think it a most excellent treatise, 
well calculated to awaken thosc who are 
careless about their soul's salvation, and full 
of heavenly comfort for those wJio arc in 
trouble of mind, body, oy estate j you are 
very much on my licart and in my thoughts, 
and my earnest prayer to God for you is, tiiat 
lie may support you in all yonr trials, and so 
sanctify them to you, that in the end you may 
liave reason to bless him for what at present 
seems most bitter and severe ; and to say, 
" It is good for me that 1 have been afflicted, 
for now have I learned thy word." With 
sincere ciiristian sympathy and friendship, 
J remain 

Your affectionate 

M. L. Ramsay. 

October 22, 1790.- 



TO MISS HAZLEHURST, 



229' 



>^OTE TO MISS JULIANA HAZXEHURST. 

Jlpril, 181 1. 

-MY DEAR JULIANA, 

Will you oblii:'e me so far as to lend me the 
memoirs of miss Elizabeth Smith. This 
book is not in the library, which is the caiiso 
of your receiving" (his little note of entreaty 
from your admirer. 

And affectionate friend, 

M. L. Ramsay. 

To this an answer was returned, but by mistake addressed 
to the daughter Martha, iitstond of the mother of the 
same name, which occasioned the tbliowing note. 

TO MISS HAZLEHURST. 

I SHALL never aj;*ain beabte, mjdear Juli- 
ana, to reproacli my daughter, M. H. L. U. 
for writini;^ a careless note, and still more 
careless hand, siiice her discriminating neigh- 
bour has seen i(o diiference between her per- 
formance and ri:ine, in either siy!e or pen- 
manship. 

From your favourable opinion of miss 
Smith's Memoii's, I shall read the book with 
a prepossession uufavosirable to impartial 
judgment, so iinich am 1 inlluenced by the 
opinion of those I esteem and love. 
I am, dear Juliana, 

Your affectionate 

Martha, Senior, 

V 



2.3.« 



LETTER FROM" MRS. RAMSAY 



TO MiSS IIAZLEHURST. 



If, iny dear Juliana, the contents of the 
annexed note, an acceptance on the part or 
the Rev. Dr. Kollock, of an invitation to. 
breakfast the next morning, joined to the 
pleasure your company will give us, have 
any weight with you, I request you will 
brealifast with us. Dr. Kollock was the first 
person wlio mentioned Elizabeth Smith to 
us with tender encomium. You have known 
how to appreciate her merit ; and I believe 
so sincere has been your admiration of it, that 
in the most valuable circumstances of her 
life, you arc imitating her example. I hope 
I shall feel that you are as obliging to those 
you love, as she was, by your permitting me 
to introduce a person on whom maternal care 
has been so well bestowed, to a gentleman,. 
(Dr. Kollock) so capable of valuing female 
merit. 

I remain your affectionate 

Patty. 

to miss hazlehurst. 

DEAR JULIANA, 

If you are not acquainted with bishop 
Taylor's writings, I am persuaded you will' 
iind many tbings in the book f Taylor's Holy 



TO ^^S5 -spaoAY. '^^^ 

Living and Dying) wliich I send you, which 
will be pleasing to your intelligent and pious 
mind. The devotions for solemn festivals 
are, I think, very pathetic, and shew him to 
have been a man deeply exercised in religious 
matters. If they contribute to edification or 
consolation, I shall rejoice to have thought 
of the book and of you at the same time. 
From your affectionate friend, 
Makth^l Laurens RamsaYo 

^9pril 12^ 18H. 



Charleston, January 10, 1794. 

MY DEAR HISS SPROAT, 

The wish you express in Mrs. Keith's 
letter, that I should write to you, is of that 
nature, that I cannot refuse to comply with 
it ; and were my ability to say any thing to 
the purpose on the subject, equal to my feel- 
ings and sympathy on the sad occasion of 
your sorrows, I should not write in vain; but 
alas, in such mournful seasons as you have 
experienced, vain is the help of man. None, 
but the hand whicli has smitten, can heal, 
and God, that has cast down, can alene raise 
and support the afflicted and dejected soul. 
Yet I know it is our duty to weep wath those 
that weep, and our privilege to draw nigh t# 



232 LETTER FROM MRS. RAIMSAY 

the throne of Grace for olhers as ^veJ] as for 
oiu'seives. 1 ]io|>e i have nol f^iiled in this 
duJy, or in the exercise of tiiis privilege Avith 
regard to your family. You have heen very 
miu li in my tlnoughts and on my heart, and 
by day, and by night, I have not ceased to 
make mention of you in my prayers, that 
God would he your refuge and strength, a 
Tery present help in trouble. Perhaps we 
never feel so is«uch of tlie goodness of God 
as in times of dj-ep affliction, when they are 
accooipanied by t?.at sanctifying grace, which 
I trust has hud, and will continue to have its 
operation under the great and repeated be- 
reave Ttnts -which you have met with, and 
are still lanienling. When the soul, with 
deep humility af»d ^i^.cerily, is brought to 
say, 1 will bear the indignation of the Lord, 
because I have sinned against him, and to 
lament that evil of its nature and those trans- 
gressions of heart and life, which njake chas- 
tiseojents necessary, either to call us to re- 
pentance or to (piieken us in our way : Then 
is the light <>f God's countenajice reisdy to 
rise upon it, for he doth not afflict willingly 
nor grieve the children of men, but sendeth 
afilictions in mercy to his peop]e, that they 
miay search and try their ways, and turn 
again to (heir God. who is only waitint? for 
tliis return to shov* them how aracMnis lie 
i», and what tender compassions are found in 



TO MISS SPROAT. 



233 



bis heart. "When our earthly comforts fail, 
then we feel the blessing of having a heavenly 
and never failing friend, who is with us, and 
watching over us at all times ; but whom we 
are too apt to forget in what we call the day 
of our prosperity, and never truly to turn to, 
till repeated and sore disappointments have 
taught us the vanity of all earthly expecta- 
tions and created good. Then like the prodi- 
gal, dissatisfied with our husks, and our far 
and desolate country, we turn our faces Sion- 
ward, we call upon God our Father, and de- 
sire to be fed with that bread which cometh 
^own from Heaven ; and this is the Lord's op^ 
portunity ; it is to bring us to this humility 
of spirit, this brokenness of spirit, this fitness 
to receive divine communications, that he 
sends us those afflictive Providences, which 
Corce our consciences to a stand, make us ex- 
amine and try our ways, and lift our hearts 
as well as our hands to God in the heavens. 
Then it is that God makes us feel his all 
sufficiency to support and comfort us ; to 
bring good out of evil ; and by his divine 
presence and consolations, makes up to us 
all our earthly losses, and heals our bleeding 
hearts ; and thus it is, dear miss Sproat, that 
I hope you will be enabled to sing of mercy, 
as well as judgment. Great have been your 

trials, but great also, has been the admixture 
r 2 



334 LETTER FROM MRS. KA:^.rSAY 

of divine compassion. You liave good liope 
through gi'iice, for ihe deiir friends, wIjo bjan 
awful Providence hiive been taken from you, 
tliat they are not lost, but gone before. Your 
dear and honoured fat her particuiariy was ripe 
for glory, and is gone to s'eeeive the reward of 
liis pious labours. And in the iisidst of your 
tears for yourself, your iieart should feel 
some joy for your friends, that they have an 
everlasting period put to all their sins, and 
sorrows, and temptations here below, and 
liave theii* souls full of holiness ; their hearts 
filled with joy, and their mouths with the 
everlasting |Ji".n«es of that fiod and Saviour, 
who hath brought theni safeJytlirough their 
pilgrimage and fixed them in the new Jeru- 
salem beyond the fear of falling ; and now 
what remains for us to do, but witii faith and 
patience to follow those w ho are now inherit- 
ing the promises. God gives us line upon 
lisic, and precept upon precept, but perhaps 
no precepts sink so deep in our hearts as 
those, which come in the foVm of crosses. 
We hear good sermons, we read good books, 
but whole years of hearing and reading do 
not teach us so much of the vanity of the 
creature, and of our dependance on God, as 
the running dry of one spring of earthly en- 
joyment ; and we hardly ever feel this the 
'wilderness world which, in reality, it is, till 
soaic of our comforts fail or forsake us, and 



TO Miss SPROAT. 235 

Ts'e begin one way or oilier to feel very miicli 
alone in it ; then we turn to God, and desire 
to iind in him that rest to our souls, which we 
<»an Iind in nothing else. I am no novice, my 
dear miss Sproat, in the school of affliction. 
I have known outward trials and inward, 
pangs ; and I pray the great Captain of our 
salvation, wiio himself was a man of sorrow s 
and acquainted with grief, to give us both 
such a sanctified use of our respective cross- 
es, that we may be the better for them in 
lime, and praise him for them through all 
oternity. 

I trust tlie lieavy cioml of youi* bereaTe- 
inents has burst with some blessings over ua 
liere. Our wortliy Mr. Keith appears to 
Jiave been affected and touched to very gocd 
purpose : and has given us not a few sucla 
sermons since the visitation on your city, 
and tlie deaths in your family, as show his 
mind to have been most piously exei*< ised, 
and of which he Aviil see the blessed efiects, 
when he comes to find out those perfectly in 
lieaven, than he can or than it would be right 
for him to know mi eartli, tlie souls wiiom 
he has edified, strengtlicncd, and comforted 
by his faithful labours among us. I have, 
hy one circumstance or other been much less 
with your dear sister than I could have wish- 
ed; ])ut J am happy to say that God, i\\ whom 
slie believed, huj graciously supported her 



■«^6 LETTER FROM JIRS. RAMSAY 

under her pressures of mind, and great bodily 
weakness ; and has enabled her to glorify 
him by a calm, and christian resignation to 
his will ; and I trust he will bring her out of 
this furnace as gold seven times purified. 
My dear miss Sproat, I pray God to bless 
her and you, and the remaining branches of 
your family ; and feel my heart particularly 
drawn out for the little baby left in your 
eare, tliat you may be a mutual blessing to 
each other ; and I remain with great sympa- 
thy and affection yours, 

Martha Laurens Ramsay. 



Charleston, September 13, 1796. 

MY DEAR MISS SPaOAT, 

I FEEL myself under the awful necessity of 
being the bearer of heavy tidings to you ; 
and I confess, that I shrink so much from 
the task, that I have hardly resolution to 
hold the pen. Nevertheless in cases of duty 
we must not confer with flesh and blood, but 
endeavour to act with firmness. Need I 
keep your mind any longer in the anguish of 
suspense. Our pious friend, your sister in 
the flesh, our sister in Christ, our dear Mrs. 
Keith, shall I say she is dead, or with more 
ct^ristian propriety express myself by sayingr 



TD MISS SPROAT. 2^7 

slie who has long lived the life of faiUi on 
earth, now lives, as our hope and belief foi^- 
hep in Jesus is, the life of vision and glory 
in heaven. She who hut a few hours ago was 
enihodied ii>llesh, troubled by sin, depressed 
by M'eakness, is now a glorified spirit free 
from sin, free from sorrow, and has forever 
done with the evils of mortality ; it is so, in- 
deed, my dear miss Sproat. At five o'clock 
tliis morning, your dear sister bid farewell 
to sin aiMl sorrow, after an illness (supposed 
to be an affection of the liver) not deemed 
dangerous till witiiin these eight days. Mr. 
Keith and the little girl lately taken under 
their protection had both been sick for some 
time. Mrs. Keith was complaining, but not 
enough to alarm her friends, till about the 
lime I have mentioned above. From the day 
she was thought seriously ill, she has de- 
clined very rapidly, and for some part of this 
time her ideas suffered considerable derange- 
ment. Nevertheless she has given such testi- 
monies of her confidence in God, of her trust 
in. and dependance on her Saviour, even in 
the dark valley of the shadow of death, as 
are highly consolatory to us, who have wit- 
nessed them. As long as she could speak, 
slie spoke for Chnst, and when she had no 
longer the power of utterance, with any de- 
cree of ease, she gave signs of joy, and shoi-t 
'anawers expressive that the promises which 



^/38 LEITER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

we whispered in her ear, were savingly, 
preciously, comfortably applied to her heart. 
And now my dear miss Sproat, what shall I 
say to you? I feel disposed to say to you, ia 
the midst of the sorrows of nature and the 
bemoanings of sisterly affection, rejoice in 
the Lord, and again I say rejoice. L^t the 
thoughts of her bliss, of the glory with which 
she is now surrounded, of which she is now 
possessed, enable you not only to submit, but 
even to rejoice in this tribulation ; and may 
the Spirit of grace and consolation, bring 
such promises and gospel supports to your 
recollection, as may be suited to your case^ 
and which? did I feel myself equal to the un- 
dertaking, I could but suggest; he only could 
apply. I should say something of our very 
dear friend Mr. Keith. Oh he behaves un- 
der this trial, like the affectionate friend, the 
tender, bowed down, bereaved husband ; yet 
like the exercised, the experienced, the es- 
tablished christian. 1 trust he has learned 
many an useful lesson from our departed 
friend, and F hope he will now be enabled to 
put them in practice. You will excuse me 
from writing moi'e at length ; I feel myself 
too much overcome to be able to do it. May 
God support and comfort our dear Mr. Keith, 
Mrs. Spencer, you, my dear Mi«s Sproat, 
and all most intimately interested in the 
dear deceased ; and sanctify this stroke of 



TO MISS M. E. L. PIKCKNEY. 2S9 

liis providence to many in the congregation » 
who have been ^vitnesses of hei* zeal and 
sincerity in the service of our dear Lord and 
Master ; that in addition to the s^ood she has 
done, while living, she, though dead in the 
flesh, yet living in our hearts, may still speak 
to the glory of God, and the good of souls. 
"With my sincere prayers for you, my deai^ 
Miss Sproat, I remain with sympathizing rc~ 
gard. 

Your friend and servant, 

Martha Laurexs Ramsay. 



TO MISS M. E. t. PIXCKNEY.^ 

<* That it is better to go to the house of 
mourning," is not only one of those assertions, 
which, coming from the pen of inspiration, 
we are bound humldy to receive as truth ,* but 
I believe, dear Mary, the experience of eve- 
ly feeling heart, which has gone on but a 
moderate way in the Journey of life, will tes- 
tify, that by the occasional sudsess of the 
countenance, the heart is nrade better^ aiid 
that sympathy with our fellow creatures is not 
only grateful to them, but iisefnl to ourselvi's. 

I went early into the garden to [)r('athe fiesh 
air, and delight myself with the fair face of 

* This note was not ivccivc'«i in season to be inserted in 
the first edition ct" the&i.' memoirs. 



.210 



LETTER FROW MRS. RAMSAY 



nature, and to cut some sweet flowers for my 
sweet Fail and you. None of your cousins 
are yet stirring, and I thought I would write 
a little note in their stead. The tone of my 
mind has framed the style of my letter. We 
are going this morning to attend the funeral 
of our dear respected Mr. Coram; and this 
evening or afternoon, our poor Jack will be 
carried to his last earthly home. As we 
ought to learn good from every thing, I hope 
I shall profit by the lesson of to day, and not 
only rejoice in the many sun shine days cf 
my life, but to make a good use too of a cloudy 
one. It seems a long time since I have seen 
Fan and you. I think your cousins, as well 
as myself, would be delighted if you were t& 
come early and drink tea with them. Dar- 
ling Sabina, with all her youthful spirits, has 
shown so much feelin,^ for poor Mrs. Coram, 
as makes me love her, and admire that sweci 
elasticity of her virtuous mind, thus accom- 
modating itself to passing circumstances. 
more than I can express. 
Adieu, dear girls, and 

believe me tenderly yours, 

M. L. Ram.^at. 



TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 



241 



EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS WRITTEN BY MRS. RAMSAY, 
TO HER SON AT PRINCETON COLLEGE.* 

FROM MARTHA LAURENS RAMSAY, TO DAVID RAM- 
SAY, JUNIOR, AT PRINCETON COLLEGE. 

Charleston, May 7, 1810. 

The first thing I did when you left me, 
dear David, was to retire for a few moments 
to your chamber, and relieve my labouring 
heart, by commending you solemnly and af- 
fectionately to the good Providence of our 
heavenly Father. I composed myself as soon 
as possible, and set about my accustomed do- 
mestic duties. Soon after Dr. Abcel came 
in ; he passed a parting half hour with us, 
and began his journey the same evening. I 
should be glad that my wishes and my hopes 
about the perfect recovery of this excellent 
and interesting man, held at all equal pace. 
But I confess that I wish more than I dare 
hope. 

SVhile I was in your chamber, I discover- 
ed the little treatise (Dr. Waterhouse's lec- 
ture to the students of the university of Cam- 
bridge on smoking tobacco) which your fa- 
ther had requested you to read, and which, 

* Many of the same kind, written by her on a preced- 
int^ similar occasion, were unfortunately destroyed in 178;^, 
v'hen the College was burnt, 
W 



242 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

in the main, 1 approve of so liiglily that I 
have given away half a dozen to persons in 
wliom I am mueh less interested than in you. 
I sent it after you by Cooney, who says you 
received it safely. I hope its contents will 
not be lost upon you, nor the book itself lost 
by you. While we were in church on Friday 
afternoon, there came up a severe thunder- 
storm ; and while Mr. Palmer was in the act 
of praying for you and your fellow passen- 
gers, the flashes of lightning and peals of 
thunder added not a little to the solemn feel- 
ing of many persons in the church, interest- 
od most tenderly in the fate of the mixed 
multitude on board the Pennsylvania. 

I shall be counting the days till I hear 
from you. It will be no disappointment to 
me, or rather it will give me no pain to learn 
that you have not entered the iunior class : 
to whatever class you belong, do your duty 
in it. Be respectful to your superiors, live 
affectionately with your equals ; make your- 
self a party in no broils ; but mind your own 
business ; give dignity to the Carolinian 
name ; write to me accurately on every sub- 
ject which concerns you. Be not ashamed 
of religion; read your Bible diligently; it 
will not only make you wise unto salvation, 
but you will find in it excellent directions for 
your conduct in the affairs of this life. Youv 
grandfather, Laurens^ used to say, if men 



UO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 2^ 

uiadc a good use of only the book of Prov- 
erbs, there would be no bankruptcies, no 
failures in trade; no family dissentions; 
none of those wide spreading evils which, 
from the careless conduct of men in the com- 
mon eoncenis of life, desolate human society ; 
and I can assure you, the more you read this 
divine book, the more you will love and value 
it. I long to hear from you, and with ten- 
der affection subscribe myself, your friend 
and mother. 

M. L. Ramsay. 



PROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

May 14, I81(i. 

I NOW write to you, dear David, to thank 
you for your letter from on board ship, which 
I received the day before yesterday ; and 
which was highly acceptable both to your 
fattier and myself. 

If your father and I were not very loving 
and \Qvy industrious people, we should feel 
very solitary at present. John, David, and 
James at a distance; the rest out of hearing; 
and all the young ones away. These cir- 
cumstances make a great change in our 
household, and one which needs both love 
and labour to make it tolerable. There is 



'::44 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

now no polite attention at tJie long table in 
wait till a servant is disengaged. Even slow- 
paced Jack is more than we want at our less- 
ened board. I now long very much to hear 
from you ; it seems to me a great while 
since we parted ; and if you knew the de- 
light your siiip-letterhad given your parents 
as a mark of attention, affection and home 
love, I am snre it would make your heart 
happy. My anxiety that you should behave 
well, and make the very best use of your 
collegiate opportunities is very great. But 
I thank God, I feel much of the cheerfulness 
of hope. I know you have good abilities, 
quick apprehension : I trust you will not be 
indolent, and that a manly shame (to be 
ashamed to do wrong is a manly feeling,) 
will prevent your adding yourself to the 
list of the Carolina triflers, whose conduct 
has brought a college, such as Princeton, in- 
to disrepute. I hope you will feel a lauda- 
ble pride in inheriting your father's literary 
reputation in the college where he received 
an education, of which he has made so excel- 
lent an use ; yet an education mucli below 
what you may receive at the same institu- 
tion, from the great improvements made in 
every branch of science since his time. 
I hope absence wont weaken your affection. 
Continue to love us ; the more you love your 
father and mother, the more you endeavour 



TO HER SON AOP COLLEGE. -4'5 

to oblige Iheiu, tlie wiser, the better, the hap- 
pier \ou will be ; and at some future period, 
■when standing in the relation of a parent 
yourself, you will have sensations unknown 
to all but parents ; the consciousness of hav- 
ing been a good son, will fill you witli inex- 
pressible delight. God bless you, my dear 
son; your father joins in love to you, with 
your faithful friend and mother, 

M. L. Ramsay. 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

June 13, 181Q. 

An open candid disposition endears a 
young person much to his friends, and must 
make him ver^ comfortable to liimself. That 
sort of reserve, which arises from a concious- 
ness of having wasted the time which ought 
to have been devoted to study, and being con- 
sequently unprepared for answering an^ ques- 
tions proposed ; or froni a sullen unyielding 
temper, which shrinks from investigation, 
except when proceeding from tutors and mas- 
ters it cannot be avoided, is a reserve so un- 
lovely that I witness it with pain, and I do most 
earnestly beseech you to strive against such 
a temper, which if unresisted and unsubdued, 
"will show itself on a thousand occasjoas be- 

W3 



'Ii6 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAT 1 

sides that specified above. Even an incor- 
rect answer, if given in an amiable tone of 
voice, indicating a desire to be set right, if 
found in erior, is preferable to silence, or to 
an unwilling reply, even if a correct one. 
God has given you an excellent understand- 
ing. Oh, make use of it for wise purposes ; 
acknowledge it as his gift ; and let it regu- 
late your conduct and harmoiiize your pas- 
sions. Be industrious , be amiable. Every 
act of self-denial will bring its own reward 
with it, and make the next step in duty and 
in virtue easier and more pleasant than the 
former. 

1 am glad you like your room-mate. I 
hope he is one who will set you no bad exam- 
ple, and with w horn you may enjoy yourself 
pleasantly and innocently. I delight to hear 
every thing about yon, and you can have 
neither pleasure nor pain jn wliieh I do not 
sincerely and affectionately participate, 

Eleanor and I drank tea witli aunt Lau- 
rens last evening. Frederick, fourteen days 
younger than William, was learning Fructus 
and Cornu, with such earnestness, in order 
to be ready for Mr. Moore against the next 
day, that I could hardly believe it was my 
wild nephew. Mild John was in a corner 
smiling, and helping Frederick whenever he 
seemed to be at a loss. 

The girls all send their love to you ; so do 
parnoble your good friend and sister desires 



TO HER SON AT COLLEGB. 247 

not to be forgotten. Mrs. Coram is constant 
in her inquiries after you; so are many other 
friends. It is a charming thing to be belov- 
ed. God bless you, my very dear child ; may 
he watch ovei* your youth, and keep you from 
shame. 1 embrace you with an overflowing 
tide of affection. 

Martha Laurens Ramsay* 



•£R0M THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

.Ml/ 18, 1810. 

From the tenor of your last letter, it may 
be fairly inferred that you are dissatisfied 
with the stiictnoss of a collegiate course; 
and if you should not go through a collegiate 
course, what then ? Can you go througli any 
virtuous course without economy, industry 
and seifdenial ? Can you fit yourself for use- 
fulness on earth, or happiness in heaven, in 
any other way than doing your duty in the 
station in which God has placed you ? And 
U your cliief ambition is, without caring 
"whether you are as wise or good, to wiiili at 
least to be richer than your father and mother, 
will not a diligent attention to collegiate 
studies and duties be the readiest method to 
fit you for such eminence in whatever pro- 
&ssion you choose, as shall cuable you to 



248 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAl 

attain this golden treasure. I assure you, 
many young men with less means than you 
have, or are likely to have, for nothing really 
necessary or comlbrtahle, I trust in Provi- 
dence, shall he wanting to you, have felt it a 
great privilege to go through a collegiate 
course, and have afterward come to he emi- 
nent, respectable, and wealthy. 

I would never wish my judgment to be 
■^varped by my feelings, especially by offend- 
ed feelings, to do any thing harsh. I would 
rather even have it blinded by such affection 
for my dear children, as would make my 
tenderness overstep perhaps the exact bound 
of maternal prudence ; both extremes would 
be best avoided. ** Give me thine heart my 
son," is the language of scripture ; and where 
there is any heart wortli giving or worth 
having, I believe it is seldom refused to the 
authors of our being, the protectors of our 
infancy ; to the father, whose fond ambition 
it is to see his son distinguished in life ; the 
Mother, who, with a throbbing heart and 
moistened eye, is continually addressing the 
throne of heaven for the welfare of her dear 
child ; and to the sisters, ever ready to re- 
ciprocate the tender charities of domestic 
endearment, and ever cheerfully sacrificing 
something of their own convenience for the 
advancement of their brothers. I pray God 
to bless you, ai^d to give you grace to make 



•04.9 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 



a ffood use of an uncierstanding, which I am 
mvc you possess, to give a right bias to ener- 
gies and sensibilities, wlneh, wrongly direct- 
ed will make you foolish and miserable. 
With sincere prayers for your improvement 
in wisdom and virtue, wishing you an affec- 
tionate heart and industrious hahits, I re- 
main your faithful friend, your tender moth^ 
^,, ^ M. L. Ramsay, 



FROM THE fiAME TO THE SAME. 

August 26, 181G. 



DEAR DAVID, 



I 4M at present undergoing a very severe 
affliction, and have for a fortnight past been 
so much occupied and agitated, that I have 
let one post after another pass without writ- 
in"" to you. You know however all my mmd 
toward you ; have my precepts and opinion 
upon every subject which can materially in- 
terest you ; and whether I write or am silent, 
my maternal love, my temler anxiety for my 
son, for my dear husband's namesake, can 
never be for one moment a matter of doubt 
to you. Your sister. INliss Futerell, expects 
to embark for Liverpool, on her way to Lon- 
don, the day after tomorrow. Business ol 
importance, and tlic desire of being with \m 



-3* LETTER FROM MRS. RAMS At 

mother, become aged and infirm, is the cause 
of her vojage. She has been attempting a 
return to England for many months; but 
the obstructions to an intercourse between 
that country and ours made it impossible to 
get a passage, but by some very roundabout 
way. Your father is more affected on this 
occasion than it is common for men to mani- 
fest. With regard to myself and your sisters, 
need I describe our situation ? Miss Futerell 
is bowed down with grief at our separation ; 
and I think this is a grief in which you will, 
to a certain degree, participate; she loves 
you with a very warm affection, and enter- 
tains such an opinion of your heart and un- 
derstanding, that she is often saying. I expect 
great things from David; she will hardly 
ever allow me even to express a fear of your 
doing ill ; and declares, however such fears 
may intrude on the heart of a mother, and 
especially of a Carolinian mother, I have no 
cause for it. Yesterday she said to me, « I 
am going to leave you, and it is mournful to 
me to leave you burdened with care on so 
many accounts ; but keep up your spirits ; 
repose your hope in God ; parJicularly, don't 
be uneasy about David ; he will do well. Ex- 
hort him to be industrious ; not to be con- 
tented with low attainments, and all will be 
well ; much good seed has been sown by you; 
and I think it has fallen on good ground. He 



XO HER ^ON AT COLLEGE. 2,5 I 

knows the truth ; he has iuibihed sound prin- 
ciples ; from time to time, in his life, he has 
thought very seriously ; he will do you no 
discredit; and he will become a valuable 
member of society." I pray God, my dear 
son, her predictions may be true ; she has 
always been a kind friend and adviser to you 
and to your brothers and sisters ; and is, I 
believe, as deeply interested for you all as it 
is possible for any but a mothep to be. 1 
hope you will now recollect all her admo- 
nitions of love, and prolit by them. If you 
were a little older, had well profited by yout 
education, and we could meet the expense, I 
should have no objection to your accompany- 
ing this dear friend; and while she was trans- 
acting her business, ihat you should be tak- 
ing, before you settled down in life, a survey 
of that woi'ld of wonders, London. 

Your vacation is now at no great distance* 
I hope you are not trifling away this prime 
of your days, content with such attainments 
as will excuse you from censure ; but emulous 
of ranking with the most studious, most pru- 
dent, and most virtuous of your companions. 
I wish I could inspire you with a laudable 
ambition, and with feelings that would make 
you avoid any unnecessary intercourse with 
the bucks, the fops, the idlers of college j 
and think that the true intention of going to 
a seminary of learning is to attain scienee^ 



352 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

and fit you liereafter* to rank among men of 
literary and public consequence. Our inten- 
tion is that you shall spend the vacation with 
your uncle in Baltimore. You will be at 
Philadelphia in passing. You will be kindly 
treated by your uncle and his family, and 
you will find enough (o amuse you in Balti- 
more, which is said to be the third city in 
the United States. At some future opportu- 
nity you may visit New York and Boston. 
But in order to accomplish all, or any of 
these purposes, you must be frugal, and not 
atteoipt to vie in wasting money with the 
sons of rich planters, who only go to college 
for fashion's sake, and whose lives are as 
useless as their expenses. Your father is 
absent on a visit to Mr. Todd, and from the 
message brought, I fear his visit will be too 
late to be of any avail. It will be an ad- 
ditional grief to Miss Futerell to leave Mrs. 
Todd under affliction, and a heavy affliction 
to Mrs. Todd to part with such a friend at 
such a time. 

Witli all a mother's heart, 

I remain, dear David, yours, 

*M. L. R. 



TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 253 

niOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

September U, 1810. 

DEAR DAVID, 

I WROTE to you not long ago, telling you 
of tlie depart ui'e of my dear Miss Futeiell. 
Her absence makes every tiling desolate to 
me. and your sisters more than sympathize 
with me. for in addition to mine they feel 
their own sorrow. I have in them, however, 
tiiis consoIaJion, tliat by ever^ act of tiieir 
lives, they sliow how much they have profit- 
ed by her adviee and example ; never were 
parents more blessed than your father and I 
in daughters; and 1 hope God will return 
seventy fold into tlieir bosoms, tlie comfort, 
thev eive to ours. Your time of vacation is 
drawing on. I trust you are not losing your 
tiine for study, and that as you grow older, 
you arc resisting every proj)ensity to idleness 
or folly of any kind. Youi* judgment mu*t 
he well informed. You have lived from in- 
fancy within the sound of good advice ; and 
although some dispositions are restive under 
any advice tliat clashes with their present 
gratification, I flatter myself, you have a 
more ingenuous disposition, and that no effort 
on tlie part of your parents and fiie ds, to 
make you wiser, and better, will fjjially be 
lost upon Tou. 
X 



254 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

Could you know my anxiety about you, ib 
dependently of nobler motives, I think, even 
a spirit of compassion for an affiieted friend,^ 
would make vou conduct yourself wisely, iti 
the course of a life, not yet very long, I have 
seen many younj^ persons, with e\er^ possi- 
ble advantag:e (or cultivating their talents, 
improving their minds, and becoming estimar^ 
ble members of society, lost to themselves, a 
disgrace to their friends, pliigues to society, 
or mere cyphers in it, from indolence, a slight 
manner of pursuing their studies, smoking, 
drinking, an excessive love of finery, of tri- 
fling company, or some similar evil indulged 
in, between the age of fifteen and twenty. Oh,^ 
how I shudder, and what a death like faint- 
ness and oppression seizes my poor heart, at 
the thoughts of how I stand in the persons of 
sons exposed to such a calamity. With bend- 
ed knees, and streaming eyes, I pray my God, 
send me help, and ward oflTsuch a stroke. I 
have also seen those who with very scanty 
means, and almost under every possible dis- 
advantage* have, under the smiles of heaven, 
been^ friemis, money, advice to themselves, 
and have risen to shine as lights in the world. 
Others again, I have seen, who not having to 
struggle like these last, constantly against 
wind and tide, and supported only by their 
own efforts, but situated like yourself under 
happier circumstances^ have repaid the la« 



TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 



255 



bours of a father, and lite tender exertions 
of a mother, hy doing' their part well, and re- 
turning home from their different seminaries 
of education, just sueh as their parents could 
wisli. Oh ! my God, grant that this may be 
the case with us ; preserve David from every 
evil way ; give him grace to make a good use 
of the powers thou hast given him ; and let 
liim not waste the morning of his days in any 
trifling pursuit, or disgrace it by any thing 
vicious or ignoble. 

Dr. Keith gave us, yesterday, an excel- 
lent sermon on these words ; " Who can 
understand his errors ^ Cleanse tliou me 
from secret faults." We ouglit, dear child, 
to take great pains to understand our errors, 
W^e have every one, by nature, some secret 
error, some constitutional defeat or vice. 
In childhood, the advice or autiiority of 
parents may restrain it; still it is there ; as 
Vc g!*ow older, we must watch for ourselves, 
restrain ourselves, look up to God for help, 
wliile we exercise such acts of self denial, as 
sliall break the bias, and keep it from pro- 
ducing a vicious habit, which, alas, may be- 
come too strong for us, and be our curse and 
our master as long as we live. Persons, about 
your time of life, are apt to think themselves 
very wise ; and io pay very slender attention 
to the advioe of their superiors ; this is a 
very ^reat error: as bv such conduct, they 

X 2 " 



^56 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAt 

not only deprive themselves of (he experience 
of those older and wiser than themselves, hat 
they appear, and really are very unlovely in 
their tempers, to those who reprove or advise 
them, xyhether parents or otliers. At your 
time of life every false appearance of pleasure 
is taken for a reality, and the restraints of 
tIs tuoiis industi'y and hard study a hurden 
too heavy to he home. May God i^ive you 
wisdom to understand your errors, and a man- 
ly resolution Jo resist every temptation to evil, 
make you lov<dy in your temper, dilii^ent in 
the pursuits of useful science, and enahle you, 
by conciliatory and en.2;aging manners, to 
make friends to yourself among the wise and 
good wherever you go. 

J will do all in my power for my dear chil- 
dren, and must then leave the e\ent to God 
and their own exertions, I hope they will 
reap the benefit of my labours, when I shall 
be quietly restinj? from them. I hope you will 
always look on Dr. Smith, not only as pres- 
ident of the college, but as a very dear friend 
of your mother, and so accustomed to youth 
as to know every twistinj^ and turning of their 
hearts, and capable of giving them the best 
advice. When you go to your uncle's, tell 
me all about them ; you know they are stran- 
gers to me. though relations, except himself, 
and from your uncle 1 received such bi'other- 
ly affection, as entirely gained my heart. 



IX) HER SON AT COLLEGE. 257 

Dr. Waddol has much trouble from the 
increased number of liis town boys ; llic 
Charltstonians carrj their idleness, their im- 
patience orcontroul. their extra vaj^anee, their 
self consequence with them wherever they 
go, and ev4 n the best of them are, in general, 
far inferior to what, with their quicii capac- 
ities, and lively imaginations, tliey might be. 
if they would make the virtuous endeavour. 
I remain, with great affection, 
Your friend and mother, 

Mahtha Laurens Ramsay. 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SA^IE. 

J\'ovember 7, 1810. 

UEAU DAVID, 

Tlie number of my letters should be no 
rule for ^ou : vou know well the stato of nsv 
health, and of mv affairs, and that everv let- 
ter I writ<* is in the time stolen from sleep 
or business, for my eyes do not permit my 
writing in the evening, my only season of 
leisure. Since your sister's departure, I have 
still more to do with less spirits for perform- 
ance ; and during the last month every house- 
keeper in the interior of the city has been 
kept la a state of alarm, from the dread of 

X3 



25S tETTEH PROM MRS. RAMSAY 

iire, increased by the dry state of every thing 
about us, fVom the long want of rain, sur- 
rounded, as we have been by danger, I thank 
God we are yet safe. I hope you are doing 
yourself credit, and preparing yourself for 
future usefulness in life. I feel a deep and a 
gnawing anxiety about you ; sixteen, seven- 
teen, eighteen ! ah, what important years are 
they in a young man's life ; how unformed is his 
judgment ! How false his views of most things! 
What, but heavenly guidance, can steer him 
safely through the perils to which he is ex- 
posed from within and without, and yet 
wliat an age of confidence, of self conceit. 
How seldom is the eye turned to Heaven, or 
the ear open to the admonitions of expei^ience, 
wisdom, or fiiendship? even the remonstran- 
ces of science, the reproofs of paternal au- 
thority, the counsels and entreaties of mater- 
nal tenderness, are scarcely heard amidst the 
turbulence of youthful passions, and incite- 
ments to irregularities. 

My tears flow, and my heart aches, while, 
with tlie mingled emotions of hope and fear 
for you, I thus pour forth its sensations. You 
are now far from me ,* I can no longer direct 
your individual actions ; I can only give you 
good advice in general, and pray to God for 
you. One great guard of youthful virtue is 
industry. Be then industrious, and employ 



ro HER SON AT COLI.EGli, 2 5 'J 

every moment of your lime to some valiraWe 
purpose. I loDg to hear from yoii. 
I am with sincere affection, 
Your friend and mother, 

M. L. Ramsay. 



FEOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

JVovemher 21, 1810. 

DEAR DAVID, 

I AM filled Avith exlreme anxiety by your 
long silence; it is very mortifying to a parent, 
so tenderly attached to a child as I am to 
you, to think that, in the leisure of a whole 
vacation, you Jiave written but once. I have 
only heard of you, if I may so express my- 
self, negatively. Your cousins, Charlotte 
and Sophia, who have written to Kitty and 
Sabina, express their regrets, and those of 
their parents, that you are not with them, 
nor from the advanced state of the vacation, 
likely to be so. 

I feel a stronger wish than I have a hope, 
that I may have been deceived in the opinion 
which you know I have often delivered to 
your father, that a boy of fifteen had better 
be at a grammar-school, than among juniors 
at college ; and when he declares that with 

X4 



260 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 

your good sense, your knowledge of your situ- 
ation, as one ©f a large and not rich family, 
and tlie nccessily of your own exertions to 
enable you to maintain an honourable stand- 
ing in society, he feels confident you will 
never act materially wrong ; I e^ only re- 
ply, I pray God you may be right. I shall 
rejoice in having judged erroneously ; but 
when a boy does not write fully, freely, and 
frequently to his father and mother, the poor 
mother's heart, cannot help feeling a trem- 
bling anxiety, that all is not right with her 
son. 

Your time for improvement will be quicks 
ly past; if it is not improved, you will find 
yourself grown up with the pride of what 
you civil a gentleman ; you will have no pat- 
rimony to lean upon ; your natural talents 
will be of comparatively little consequence 
to you, and you will have no talents so culti- 
vated and ready to be bi^uglit into action as 
to make you capable of building up a fortune 
for yourself; and of all the mean objects in 
creation a lazy, poor, proud gentleman, es- 
pecially if he is a drcs&y fellow, is the mean- 
est ; and jH this is generally the character 
of young men tif good family, and slender 
fortunes, unless they take an early turn to 
learning and science. I could wish to write 
you many iiUlc local and domestic matters of 



^'0 HER SON AT C0LLE6E. 2^ 1 

news or amusements, but terrified as I am 
by bearing notbing of you, nothing from you, 
and interpreting tliis, no netos from a cher- 
ished son, as bad news, my mind is quite out 
4)f tune for any thing of the lighter Ivind. I 
was so much attached to my father, and to 
the uncle and aunt who brought me up, that 
I lived in the habit of the greatest intimacy 
with them ; your sisters can hardly enjoy a 
girlish note or a party of pleasure unless 
mamma shares in it, or knows all about it ; 
and this is so generally the case with vir- 
tuous and affectionate children, that wher- 
ever there is silence, I dread lest there should 
he also mystery. I shall rejoice to find it 
otherwise in your case ; and longing to hear 
from you, and committing the guidance of 
your youthful steps to that God, to whom I 
|»ray for you by day and by night, 
I remain, dear child, 
Your most affectionate friend and mother, 
Maktha Lauren s Ramsay. 



TROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

March 5, 1810. 

Your letter of November 19, contains this 
sentiment ; ♦' A coUegiate course is not very 



252- LETTER FROINI MRS. RAMSA\ 

necessary to eminence in a profession." CoH- 
trast this with the following extract from a 
letter, dated 

" Willington, June 30, ISOT". 

*« I WOULD not omit going to college upon 
any consideration, for I believe it is very 
difficult for a young man, who has not had a 
collegiate education, to get into an extensive 
practice of any profession." Contrast *• the 
necessity of spending much money in order 
to maintain as genteel a standing in college 
as is necessary to be respected," with " dear 
mother, 1 am now a very reputable member 
of society, I am made very much of by Dr. 
Waddel, and am beloved and respected by all 
tht; good boys in the school." 

You stated some time ago that, — • had 
four hundred dollars a year ; wc know that 
from his mother, who said this covered every 
expense ; you have received money in the 
same proportion, and rather more. You n#w 
talk of spending one hundred dollars for 
clothes. Your wardrobe must be unnecessari- 
ly costly or miserably laid in, and you know 
that yon have no ])retensions to waste from 
the idea that it will not be felt by your par- 
ents ; you are well aware that it is with much 
exertion we provide what is comfortable, 
and have no money to throw away. What 



TO HER SON Al' COLLEGE- 



263 



a weak mind you nuisil have, and hov/ much 
have 1 been deceived in its texture, il* you 
suppose thai foppish clothes and ibolish ex- 
penses, OP what you call ** a genteel appear- 
aiMje" will make you respectable. 

1 feel more pride, moic consciousness of 
being a lady, by having G\evy thing about my 
person, the persons of my ci»ildren, my house- 
hold, in the plainest style of decency, than I 
possibly could by endeavouring to cover our 
moderate circumstancos by a tinsel veil of 
finery, which would deceive no one, and only 
show the shallowness of my understanding. 

With prudence, one hundred dolhirs will 
go a great way ; without it, ten times the 
sum will be like water put into a sieve. A 
gentleman lately returned a graduate from 
Cambridge, informs me he never spent three 
hundred dollars a \ear a( college. A lad, son 
to perhaps the richest parents in Carolina, 
with only one brother to divide the inherit- 
ance, wrote to request his mother, that let 
him solicit ever so earnest ly, his pare. its 
would never furnish him with nmre tlian 
five hundred dollars ; for that sum would en- 
able him to do many foolish and mani gene- 
rous things, and all beyoiid it would be 
shameful dissii)ation, to which he knew he 
was too much disposed, and ilierefsre re- 
quested temptation might not be administer- 
ed to him. 



^64 

LETTER FROM MRS. RAlVfSAY 

Mr. T. S. Giimke assured me, (hat mih 

l^evv Mavta, ami pui-eliase inativ books • hnf 
why umtiply exa,..ples. The Jearexp'eS"^ 
ot hoarding and tuition in colleges is a matter 
well known ft.„=„ printed statements -kTs 
easy, therefore, to calculate what beyond I't 
IS necessary for the clothing, pocket money 

not go to college to be a fashionist, to sport 
IZr *f ""^''' f ^PP''"^!' t° ^""kft* 
tl.vV '^""^'^'^^•IS'', and to attain suclt lite- 

fS.?""TT "' "'^y '«' «'« f«tmdation of 
future usefulness, a fortune to him. With 
regaiHl to your spending a couple of succeed- 
ing years m Charlestor., I will oppose all nt 

ra liei spend them m the Indian country, 
an learn he rugged virtues of savages, tha^^ 
to, r'fl"' ."'■^''"^^'P''"^'' '"»Wts of Charles 
Ziitl f" ".'^'""" ^'*>"'" last letter was 
written under the transient impression of 
some juvenile folly, which is already d"ss° 
pa ed and that your next letter will he more 
JuJicmus, better reasoned, and in everyre! 
spect more worthy yourself. I feel deeply 

Sr«f n"V''- ; ^'""- -""S silence, the 
siJcnce of Ur. Smith, after having been mv 
co.n.esp,„K).„, lor so many years, all pen.Iex 



TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 



26$ 



mc. I cast vou and all my cares on God ; 
praying liim to give you wisdom, and to 
grant me support in every event. Pause, 
and consider what you are about ; a few 
wrong steps are easier trodden back tlian 
many. IMay God take care of you. 
Your atfectionate mother, 

M. L. Rams Ay. 



PROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

Jlarch 11, 181 i. 

DEAR CHILD, 

Your last letter was yvritten in a strain of 
affection and good resolution, whicli gave 
me great pleasure ; and I hoped would have 
been followed up by more such. I have 
been confined for upwards of a month, by in- 
disposition, and have only left my house 
within ten days to attend your ^mcle's sick 
room. 

It has been almost impossible to collect 
money, and with great difficulty your father 
has procured such a fifty dollar bill, as will 
pass in the northern states, which I now 
send. For the present, I avoid all remark, 
advice, or other matter ; for it is so near 
closing of the post, that I feai* losing the op* 



- ^6 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, &e. 

portunity. May God bless you, my dear son, 
and make you a son of comfort and lionour 
toyour dear fa( her, and your most affection- 
ate mother and friend, 

Martha Laurens Ramsay. 



If any should oLject to the propriety of publisliins; these 
private coiifidentiitl domestic letters, tlie editor apologizes 
Ly observing, that the importance of their contents, as 
cautions to yonth, remote from their parents at seminaries 
of learning, and t;iso to parents as models for corresponding 
Avith their absent sons, and discountenancing their juvenile 
follies, outweighs, in his opinion, all minor considerations. 

Injustice to the yonth, to wliom these letters were ad- 
dressed, it is declared, that he has never incurred any col- 
lege censure, nor has he ever been charged Avilh any im- 
moral conduct; that his standing in his class was always, 
and now Is reputable, and his prospect fair for obtaining 
the degree of A. B. before his eighteenth year is com- 
pleted ; and that the friendly monitions of his mother were 
not so much reproofs for what had taken place, as pro- 
visional guards against what might take place in future ; 
and that there is good reason to believe that these letters, 
in concurrence with other moral causes, have had the de- 
sired effect of confirming him in the steady pursuit of 
knowledge and virtue. 

The letters were, at the request of the editor, to whom 
their contents were unknown, promptly sent to him from 
Princeton in July 1811, though the intention of ]uU)lishing 
ihem was communicated in the same letter, which asked 
for their transnaission. Editor. 






LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, ik.c. 267 

Mrs Ramsav's sister, Mary Eieunor Pinckney, departed 
this life in 1794, and in the 2.)th \env of her age, htaving 
two dau,^hters and a son. These naturally excited the 
teiKJerest fee'.inf^s of their affectionate aunt. As t.liey 
grew lip, an interchange of kind offices almost daily pass- 
ed between them To accommodate to her yonng friends, 
their aunt laid aside the superiority, which age and rela- 
tionship gave her, and, placing her neices on the footing 
of daiigliters, mingled souls with then^-. as eOjUal friends, 
and exchanged notes with them, which were frequently 
■written with a ]>encil, and most of them without dates. 
From these the following are selected, as a specimen of 
the playfulness of her imagination, and an evidence of the 
overflowings of her love, wishing to impart cheerfulness 
and communicate happiness to all around her. 



TO FRANCES HENRIETTA PINCKNEY. 

Yon shall not be jealous, Dear Fan, about not receiving a 
letter from me, after such a sweet, feeling note, as you have 
written me. ' herish, my dailing niece, these warm sensibili- 
ties for \ our fellow cieatures, and notwithstanding the various 
ills tiiat "flesh is heir to," they will yield you more pleas- 
tire in gf)ing through life, than ever tliey will produce you 
un mingled \)%\n. 5 am really proud of vour note, and think 
how hapi)y I am in daughters both at home and a little way 
o{f. I feei less grieved that you do not flatter me with the 
hr)]ies of a visit this evening, as Eleanor and Patty are going 
to Mrs Jones's, and will. I dare say. make you a fly, or per- 
haps, a iongteizing nuisqnito of a visit. Well I do love Sun- 
day on many accounts: and as William, in the anticipation of 
his pocket money, often says to me, when will Saturday 
come ? So I, besides rejoicing in the religious blessings of 
the Sunday, often say. when will Sunday come r that I may 
he sure of >ny Meeting strcet'M-s. <iof)(l bye, dear Fan, tell 
Mai'y to turn that naughty cold out of doors, or I won't 
send her any flowers for her bow pot, for I shall be afraid, 
thai snjelling those sweet roses too much has hurt her deli- 
cate nerves, and made her fee! as if she had a cold, 
from your aftectionate, 

;M. L. IIamsa V, 



I 



26S 



LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 



i 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

1 rej;Tet, clear Fan, that you should think it late, when 
you left us, if it implies that you found the evening tedious. 
I was in hopes you had been amused in. your corner, as we 
were in ours, and I believe on our side the chimney, we 
felt sorr} for the signal of ' more house.' I have just dis- 
missed my scholars, and feel a little like a tired old school- 
master, so you must excuse this short note. I hear Patty 
capering about in the heighday of youth and freedom from 
care, so I refer you to her for something amusing, and con- 
clude with my love to dear Frances and Mary. 
From their friend and affectionate 

M. L. Ramsay. 



TO MARY ELEANOR LAURENS PINCKNEY. 

Pray, dear Mary, put the two sprigs of mignonette in a 
\vine glass full of water by themselves, and place them near 
you, that when the gentle zephyr wafts their fragrance to 
your delighted sense, you may think of your flower lo\ing, 
and neice loving M. L, Ramsay*" 



TO r. H. PINCKNEY. 

liEAK FA^', 

Patty requests I will tell you she is so busy planting a 
tree, she cannot answer your note any other way, than by 
making me a pat's paw. I shall be very much mortified, if 
you do not drink tea with me this evening. It is t)y no 
means coid ; and if you wish that sweet bloom to continue 
On your cheeks, you must let it sometimes meet the whole- 
some breeze. My love to Mary, and longing to see you 
both, I remain, dear girls, your attached and affectionate 

M. L. llAMSAV. 



TO MISS F. ir. PIXCKNEY. 



!&f 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

How comes it, dear Fan, that you cannot oblige jour 
Cousins by joining iheir party tomorrow evening ? ['ally's 
face is so much lengthened since she received your note, 
that she looks a proper lady Doleful ; lest therefore ue 
shouTd think you mean to monopolize the beauty of the 
family to yourself, let your compliance v ith your coubins' 
■wishes, dispense some portion of smiles and good looks 
among them. 

Yours with great love, 

M. L. Ramsay. 



FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 



DEAR FAN, 

Mr. Ogilvie called, in /)?'0y"^n'fl^f?"so7?o,yesterday morning, 
to recjuest I would heai" his oration this evening. Can 1 do 
less than accept the invitation of Mr. Ogilvie, especially as 
he assures me it is what he thinks his best oration, and will 
feel himself honoured by my presence. Your cousins tell me 
you have some thoughts of going, and I shall feel particularly 
happy, that it should so happen, that on one cf the few ccct;- 
sions, when it suits me to.go into public, my dear neice should 
be with me. Pray come early, and jou must ;dso consider 
yourself as invited for tomorrow, when we shall endeavour 
to have Polls for Skylarks, Bonds to detain Nightingales, 
and some sweet singing birds to enliven the evening; but it 
will be no evening to me without my Frances and Mary, so 
oeme and oblige your affectionate aunt, 

M. L. Ramsay. 



270 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY &c. 

I'ROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 

DEAR FAN, 

You have made me feel almost as curious as a youii": giil 
•with your 'I know what 1 couhl say.' And pi'ay, Miss Fan, 
wh;it could you say ? Not that you are envious 1 hope. He- 
member Avhut we have in hand, 5'ou stili have in hope, and 
tlon't laugh at old folks. Here is Fatty in a peck of troubles ; 
her Mercury has dropt In' tlie way the note she sent with 
mine, and she fears its falling into the hands of some curi- 
ous decipherer, who will perhaps discover more in it than 
it means. 1 comfort myself Avith the tiiought, that it will 
be found on your own iioor, as it was put wivbin uiiue. I 
have holiday to day, which is the reason why you have two 
notes. I really long to see you, and I love ) ou vvilii all my 
hcartj only you must spare a bit of it f)r dear Mary. 
1 reuiuin your alfeclionate 

M.L. Ham SAY. 



mOM J)0. WITH AJFANCY XAME TO DO, 

DEAR GIRLS, 

Your cousins have deputed me to entreat you will favour 
tliem and Dr liamsay with your company to lladdiell's 
this mornir.g. They wish for } ou ' oth ; but if dear Fan is 
afiuid of her sweet complexion, or has any other real or im- 
aginary fears, pray Mrs Moll do you come at once, break- 
fast witii your cousins and be oft', and let Fan come at her 
leisure, ami dine with poor king George, who either from 
love lf> dear mammy, or some other cause, has deternrmed 
on slaying at home. Now you young people, who are al- 
Avays making me one of your partv, don't let me have writ- 
ten in vain. You will have tlie pleasure of pleasing the 
Avho'e noble race -of Shenkins, and among the whole race, 
^v ho loves you more, than 

Martha ap Shenkins. 

These notes were not received in time to be inserted ia 
the iii'st edition of the preceding memoirs. Editor. 

THE END. 



^^0 9 6e 



LIBRARY 



CONGRESS 




